


In Eight Months

by Frequently_Humming



Series: Fyodor Series [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family Bonding, M/M, Marriage, Protective Poe Dameron, Stressed Finn, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frequently_Humming/pseuds/Frequently_Humming
Summary: “Here’s to Poe,” Han said, raising his glass towards the aforementioned man, “on his last few hours as a single man!”The other two older men in the room laughed and raised their glasses of brandy in response while Poe rolled his eyes.“Thank you, Han.  That doesn’t sound terrifying at all,” Poe took a larger gulp of his own drink than he intended.





	1. Prologue: The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> Grand Duke Fyodor Finn Skywalker and Poe Dameron are back!  
> This is a sequel to my Fyodor story. I would recommend reading Fyodor before this story because there will be references back.

_December 2, 1927_

 

“Here’s to Poe,” Han said, raising his glass towards the aforementioned man, “on his last few hours as a single man!”

 

The other two older men in the room laughed and raised their glasses of brandy in response while Poe rolled his eyes.

 

“Thank you, Han.  That doesn’t sound terrifying at all,” Poe took a larger gulp of his own drink than he intended. 

 

“In ten minutes it’ll be your wedding day,” Snap teased. 

 

“And fifteen hours after that,” Poe said loudly, “all of you will have to find something else to badger me to death about.”  He leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes.  Eight months.  Eight months of planning, nitpicking, last minute changes, disasters, surprises… And that was only on Poe’s end.  Poe didn’t have to live with the meddling, well-meaning perfectionists that were the dowagers.  Finn hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months, and the only reason Poe hadn’t thrown propriety out the window and dragged Finn off to his apartment just so Finn could _rest_ had been the fact that soon they would be married and Poe didn’t need Luke glaring daggers at him at the ceremony.

 

“You still with us, Poe,” the third man asked with a hint of concern.

 

“Hmm?  Yeah, of course.”  Poe straightened in his seat.  “Just been a long few months.”  The three men nodded in sympathy.  “But it’ll be over tomorrow.  Pour me a bit more,” Poe said cheerfully, handing his glass off to Snap who held the decanter.

 

A frantic series of knock on his apartment door prompted Poe to turn.  He glanced around at the men seated in his living room, who seemed equally confused.

 

“Maybe Luke decided to come by and toast you,” Han said with a decidedly mischievous smirk.  Poe shook his head at that insane suggestion, while Snap doubled over laughing.  The third man offered to get the door, but Poe gestured for him to stay and went himself.

 

“We never decided our name.”

 

“Finn?  What are you doing here,” Poe asked, holding the door open to allow his fiancé to come inside.  Poe glanced down at Finn’s pajama pants peeking out under his overcoat and his lack of a hat, even though there had been snow falling outside when Poe and his party had arrived at his apartment an hour ago.  “How did you get here?”

 

“Rey drove me,” Finn said quickly.  “And as soon as we’re married I want my own car, but that’s not important.  We never decided our name and I only have,” Finn looked down at his wrist and then back at Poe’s face, “five minutes until I’m not allowed to see you and the priest has to present us by some name and Papa said--,”

 

“Love, I need you to take a deep breath for me,” Poe ordered gently, pulling Finn into a tight hug.  He felt and heard the younger man inhale shakily.  “Your father has no right to get you this worked up the night before the wedding,” Poe growled.  “I _told_ him--,”

 

“He doesn’t mean any harm,” Finn interrupted, jumping to his father’s defense.  “He just wants everything to be perfect and--,”

 

“And so long as you say ‘I do’ it will be,” Poe said firmly.  “I don’t care what name we use, Finn.  Draw lots or something.”

 

“But you said before that I shouldn’t take Dameron because I’m a Skywalker,” Finn mumbled into Poe’s shoulder.  “And you said you couldn’t take Skywalker because you’re a Dameron.”

 

Poe sighed and rolled his eyes upwards.  That conversation had taken place back in May, and they had never discussed the topic again after Finn had thrown his arms up, declared that Poe was being impossible, and if Poe was going to be like that then they just wouldn’t have a last name.  There had been other things to worry about and plan and, in all honesty, Poe had forgotten all about it.

 

“And as you like to remind me, I'm an idiot,” Poe said easily, planting a kiss on Finn’s forehead when his fiancé glanced up.  “So how about this?  I would be honored if you want to be a Dameron.  I would be honored if you want me to be a Skywalker.  I would be honored if we hyphenated our names--,”

 

“Hyphenate?”

 

“Yeah?”  Poe frowned.  “That’s an option.  Dameron-Skywalker?”

 

Finn stared at Poe in amazement.  “Is that allowed,” he asked breathlessly.

 

“Finn,” Poe said slowly, “of course that’s allowed.  Didn’t Luke tell you—he didn’t mention that?”

 

Finn shook his head.  “But that’s perfect.  Dameron-Skywalker.  I have to go tell Papa!”

 

He made to pull away and leave but Poe tightened his grip to keep Finn flush against him.  “Finn, I want you to promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight.  Please.”  He ran his thumb across the bags under Finn’s left eye. 

 

“I promise I’ll try,” Finn said honestly.  “But there’s so much to do, and Papa and Aunt Leia have people working all night preparing for tomorrow and--,”

 

The bells from the church a block over began to toll and Finn’s eyes went wide.  “I have to go,” he said.  Finn pulled back enough to kiss Poe on the lips firmly.  “I love you, Poe.  I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding!”  And Finn hurried out of the apartment.

 

Poe moved back into his apartment, past his guests, to the window overlooking the street.  He watched Finn’s figure climb into Rey’s waiting car and then the car drove off, the church bells chiming midnight as the car disappeared around the corner.  Poe sighed and turned back to the others, who were watching him silently.

 

“He’s going to collapse at the altar,” Poe complained, crossing his arms.

 

“He hides it well,” Han said, taking another sip of his drink.  Poe turned to Han with a skeptical look and Han clarified, “I don’t mean he hid it well right now.  But he’s been hiding it from Luke and Leia.”

 

“Finn will be fine,” Snap said reassuring.  “My wife was the same before our wedding.  Once the two of you are on the honeymoon and away from all this, he will relax.”

 

Poe ran a hand through his hair.  “It shouldn’t be this stressful.  I told them to stop worrying Finn over every little thing.”

 

“We know,” Han said.

 

“We were there,” the third man laughed.

 

“You yelled at the dowager emperor,” Snap added.  “I always knew you were crazy but…”

 

“Yeah, well,” Poe flushed slightly at the memory, “he deserved it.”  Poe walked back to his armchair, picking up his refilled glass on the way.  “A toast,” he said raising his glass.  “I’m glad all of you are here.  We made it.”

 

“We made it,” the three echoed, clinking their glasses together.  The four took a swallow of their drinks and a short, contemplative silence fell in the room.  Then Snap snorted.

 

“What, too strong,” Han asked.

 

“No, I was just thinking--,”

 

“Uh oh,” the third man said softly to Poe.

 

“—Poe might be the first bridegroom in history who will be begging his husband to sleep on their wedding night!”

 

Poe groaned while the others had a laugh at his expense.  The worst of it was, Snap wasn’t wrong.


	2. Chapter 1: April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewind back eight months...

“Three weeks!”

 

“Sir--,”

 

“ _Three weeks_ , Dameron!”

 

“Papa--,”

 

“You couldn’t have waited _three weeks_?”

 

“No, sir, I couldn’t,” Poe snapped, pulling himself up and meeting Luke’s glare with one of his own.  “He was expecting it to happen in three weeks.”

 

“Poe wanted to surprise me, Papa,” Finn interjected.  Both Poe and Luke snapped their heads to look at him.  Finn sighed; they had forgotten he was in the room.  Again.

 

“Angel, would you excuse us for a moment,” Luke said, barely managing to compose himself and not clench his teeth.

 

“No, I’m not going to go and stand in the hallway while the pair of you--,”

 

“Finn, it’s fine,” Poe interrupted.  “Your father and I need to have a discussion.”

 

“—while the pair of you,” Finn continued louder, “talk about me like I’m a baby who doesn’t know what’s going on!”  Poe and Luke had the decency to look mildly ashamed.  “I’m not a child.  I’m nearly twenty--,”

 

“Yes,” Luke growled, sending another glare Poe’s way.  “Nearly.”

 

Poe rolled his eyes.  “I heard you the first time, sir.”

 

“I am nearly twenty,” Finn repeated, drawing their attention back to him, “and I think I have some say in this.  Papa,” he turned to meet his father’s gaze, “I know you wanted Poe to wait and propose to me when I'm officially twenty.  But he didn’t.  What he did do,” Finn plowed on despite his father moving as if to speak, “was court me for a year following your rules.  He asked your permission to marry me.  And he made me really happy by surprising me last week with a proposal.”  Luke glanced down at his desk he was leaning on in his study.  He gave a short nod.  “And Poe,” Finn said, rounding on his fiancé.

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you,” Finn rolled his eyes.  “You can stop provoking my father every chance you get.  I don’t know what it is, but something comes over you every time Papa says something to you or me and you feel you have to be contrary.  We are going to get married, Poe,” Finn reached out and grasped Poe’s hand. “I don’t want every conversation you two have to be an argument.”

 

Poe sighed and rubbed his free hand across the back of his neck.  He and Luke had reached a détente over the past year because it was obvious both of them loved Finn more than life, but under the surface there was (in Poe’s view anyway) a slight competitive edge to their interactions.  It didn’t take a genius to see that the two men did not particularly _like_ each other, and it was a bit naïve to assume Finn hadn’t noticed.

 

Luke cleared his throat.  “Well, I should say congratulations to both of you.”  He kept his eyes on the desk and missed Poe’s eyes narrow.

 

“You could have opened with that,” Poe muttered, and then grunted as Finn’s heel came down hard on the toes of his right foot.  Poe shot a betrayed look at his fiancé, reaching back to the chair behind him to maintain his balance.  Finn just stared back.

 

“Please, take a seat, both of you,” Luke continued, looking up to see Poe move towards one of the seats opposite Luke’s desk.  “We have a lot to discuss.”

 

Finn flashed a bright smile at his father before sinking gracefully down into his chair.  Poe kept his eyes on Finn as he collapsed into his own.  That all-innocence smile of Finn’s was dangerous.  Poe shook his head, refrained from grabbing his aching foot, and turned his attention back to the dowager emperor, who had seated himself.  Luke folded his hands in front of him.

 

“Did you—do you have a date in mind for the wedding,” Luke asked, speech slightly stilted.

 

“December,” Finn replied promptly.  He turned his grin towards Poe, who couldn’t resist smiling back.  Finn could punch him in the face and then turn that smile on him and Poe would smile back.  The worst of it was that Poe was pretty sure Finn knew that.

 

“Which December,” Luke asked, eyes flicking between the affianced pair across from him.

 

“This December,” Finn said, tilting his head curiously at his father.  “Why, is that too late?  Would August be better?”

 

“No,” Luke yelped.  “No, not August.  But December—that’s eight months away, my angel.”

 

Finn squinted at Luke.  “I know that, Papa.  I can count.”

 

“Fyodor,” Luke said lowly.  Finn bowed his head, and Poe glanced between the two.  He never saw Luke so much as admonish Finn in the year he had known the two of them.

 

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Finn murmured, twisting his fingers in his lap. 

 

Luke continued to stare hard at his son, before snapping his eyes over to Poe.  Poe straightened, preparing for whatever Luke’s next strike would be, but Luke had a neutral expression and calmly asked, “This December.  Have you decided on a day, Dameron?”

 

Poe glanced over at Finn, but Finn was still focused on his hands in his lap.  “Well, we were thinking about December 3rd, sir.”

 

Luke nodded, reaching for a sheet of paper and a fountain pen.  “Early in the month.  Very well.  A church ceremony is traditional,” he said, looking up at Poe.  “Any objections?”

 

“No, sir,” Poe said, still bemused.  “A church ceremony sounds perfect.”

 

Luke nodded, focusing down on the paper in front of him.  “We will have to send an announcement to the papers.  There is not enough time for it to appear in this Sunday’s editions, but we can have it drafted and placed prominently in next week’s.”

 

“An announcement,” Poe asked.  “Is that necessary?”

 

Luke leaned back, lacing his fingers together.  “Despite the fact that he is not presently acting like it, my son is still a grand duke.”  Luke glanced at Finn, who slumped further in his seat.  “Marriages of royalty are announced publicly.”

 

“Is it required,” Poe pressed.  Luke looked at him curiously.  Even Finn glanced over at Poe, concerned.  Poe sighed.  “I can just imagine what it would read like: His Imperial Majesty,” Poe said, dramatically, “Dowager Emperor Luke Skywalker, is pleased to announce the upcoming nuptials of his son, the Grand Duke Fyodor Skywalker, to,” and Poe dropped his voice, “Poe Dameron,” he finished flatly.

 

“Ah,” Luke nodded.  “I understand your meaning.”

 

“I don’t,” Finn retorted quickly, and then glancing apologetically to his father.  Luke gave him a short nod.

 

“We can put the announcement aside for now,” Luke told Poe.  Luke paused and cleared his throat.  “It may interest you to know,” he continued, focusing on Poe, “that I never objected on the grounds of your name, or the lack thereof.”

 

Poe blinked at that.  “If you had,” he said slowly, “I would have understood.  I am well aware he’s too good for me, sir.”

 

“What are you talking about,” Finn snapped, turning completely to face Poe.  “That’s absolutely ridiculous!”

 

“Unless you have anything further to discuss with me,” Luke said loudly, “I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Dameron.  We will toast the engagement.”

 

“Hold on,” Poe leaned forward.  “What exactly are you doing to Finn right now?”

 

“Ignoring him,” Luke said casually.  “It was effective when he was a child.”

 

Poe looked between Finn and Luke.  “You mean to tell me that you ignored Finn when he was younger?”

 

“It was a form of discipline.  I did not routinely employ it,” Luke blinked.  “You sound disbelieving, Dameron.”

 

“Well, I assumed—I mean,” Poe glanced over to Finn for help.

 

“Poe thought I grew up buck-wild and got away with everything, Papa,” Finn said, smirking slightly.

 

Luke stared at Poe as though Poe had told him the moon was made of cheese.  “Good God.  Are you aware you’re marrying a hellion, Dameron,” he asked aghast.

 

“I knew that!  I didn’t think _you_ knew that,” Poe laughed.

 

“Of course I know that; I raised him.”

 

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, shall I,” Finn interjected, making to stand up.

 

To Poe’s shock, the dowager emperor rolled his eyes upwards.  “You said you wanted your fiancé and I to be more cordial, angel.”  Luke leaned back and spread his hands apart.  “I try to accommodate your requests when I can.  Now, unless there are any other questions about my parenting methods, you can both be on your way.  I know one of you has some school work to catch up on.”

 

Thus dismissed, Poe and Finn left the dowager emperor’s study and made their way towards the entrance hall.

 

“So despite being given the silent treatment by your father--,”

 

“I always hated when he did that,” Finn groaned.  “I forgot all about that until he said ‘Fyodor’ like that.”

 

Poe smiled softly and wrapped an arm around Finn’s waist, pulling him to a stop.  “I’ll admit I was surprised.  I honestly didn’t think Luke had it in him.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “Didn’t your father ever discipline you?”

 

“Oh, Dad was a drill sergeant,” Poe said with a half-smile.  Finn tilted his head.  “Really.  My father was a drill sergeant in the infantry before he was promoted.  He was fairly stern with me, but my mother was free as the wind and let me run rampant when Dad was away.”

 

“That explains so much,” Finn smiled.  “You should tell me more about your parents.  If you want to,” he added hastily.  “If it’s too much--,”

 

“It’s fine, Finn,” Poe said easily.  “They both passed away a long time ago.  It’s not a fresh wound anymore.”  Finn still looked dubious, so Poe pulled him in for an embrace.  “We can talk about anything, remember?  No limits.  But maybe not tonight.  I have work in the morning.”

 

“But it’s Sunday!”

 

“Tell that to my clients,” Poe laughed.  “It’ll be a short day though.  I’ll be here for the family dinner.”

 

“Alright,” Finn relented, smiling.  Then he grew serious.  “But, did you mean it?  Do you really think I’m too good for you?”

 

Poe chuckled.  “Oh yeah, buddy.  It’s a well-accepted fact.  Everyone knows that.”  A quick kiss and Poe pulled away.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

 

** _Sunday night_ **

 

“How did you manage to convince Dowager Luke to a wedding this December,” Rey asked excitedly, grabbing Poe by the elbow and walking him away.  Poe glanced over his shoulder as he let Rey lead him to the corner of the parlor.  Finn smiled and waved before turning his attention back to Snap, who was demanding more details of the proposal than Poe had shared with him earlier that day. 

 

“I didn’t,” Poe said.  “Finn played him like a fiddle.  You should have seen him, Rey.  He’s a force of nature.”

 

“You’re so in love,” Rey said affectionately.  She dropped her grip on him now that there was a distance between the two of them and the rest.  Luke, Leia, and Han were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, which Poe found suspicious.  “Now, I was thinking earlier--,”

 

“Why?”

 

“Oh, be quiet, you.  I was thinking we haven’t gotten a chance to celebrate the engagement.”

 

“I thought that’s what this is,” Poe said, gesturing around the parlor with the glass of champagne in his hand.

 

“Do you call this a celebration,” Rey queried.  “I mean, the average age of the occupants in probably forty-five, and that’s only because Finn is still nineteen.”

 

“Ah,” Poe smirked.  “You had something else in mind.”

 

“This Friday night, the Paris Club,” Rey beamed.  “We haven’t been in ages.  We haven’t been _out_ in ages.”

 

“True,” Poe grinned.  “I’m free after eight.”

 

“Excellent.  We should check with Finn too.”

 

“Check what with me,” Finn asked, wandering over to them after Snap and Han began to reminisce about the old days.

 

“The Paris Club, Friday night: in or out,” Rey asked promptly, casually lacing an arm around Finn’s waist.  “Poe and I think we should properly celebrate your upcoming nuptials.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to intrude on that,” Finn chuckled, remembering the last time he had been out with Poe and Rey to a jazz club.  Luke had sent a car to pick him up at 23:30 exactly, and the next morning Finn had gone by Poe’s apartment to make sure he had made it home to find Poe sprawled on his sofa and Rey curled into a ball on his armchair, clutching an empty bottle of champagne.

 

“You wouldn’t be intruding, buddy,” Poe said, rolling his eyes.  “We’re inviting you along.  Besides, half the fun is seeing how drunk we can get you before your curfew.”

 

“He’s right,” Rey supplied.  “At a certain point Poe and I just buy drinks to refill your glass with when you’re not looking.”

 

“Really?”  Finn glanced between his fiancé and Rey.  “Is that why it felt like a tank had rolled over my brain last time?”  Poe and Rey both shrugged, neither confirming or denying.  Finn sighed.  “You two are dangerous.  But I can’t this Friday.  I’ve been invited to a gathering by Professor Bernard.”

 

“Should I be concerned,” Poe asked lightly.

 

“Are you usually concerned by an eighty-year-old philosopher who invites his students to a café and talks at them about Rousseau?”

 

Poe stared.  “I don’t know who that is, but it seems innocent enough.  It also sounds about as interesting as watching paint dry.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “It won’t be as fun as watching you jump on stage and sing with the band, but I need all the help I can get.  I don’t know why I took a philosophy course,” Finn shook his head.  “It’s all gibberish to me.  Still, Professor Bernard seems to like me well enough so I should pass.”

 

“You’ll do fine,” Rey reassured.  “If you still feel like you’re struggling, I have a friend who can help.  Or you could ask your father.”

 

“Thanks, Rey, but asking Papa about philosophy sounds like the quickest way to get gray hairs before I’m twenty.” 

 

“What’s that,” Luke asked, appearing suddenly next to Finn.

 

“Poe and Rey are going to a club on Friday,” Finn said quickly, turning to smile at his father.  “I was telling them I can’t join them.”  Finn turned back to Poe and Rey, who looked mildly impressed by his attempt to cover.  “I can come by Saturday morning and make sure your both still alive.”

 

“Of course we’ll be alive,” Poe said, acting aghast.  “Do you have no faith in us?”

 

“All I know is that without me there you’ll be trying to get each other drunk as fast as possible,” Finn grinned.  “Am I right?”

 

“No,” Poe said too quickly.

 

“Absolutely not,” Rey added, also suspiciously fast.

 

** _Next Saturday_ **   

 

Poe grunted awake and instantly regretted it.  Who thought waking up was a good idea?  Maybe if there weren’t tiny people with tiny hammers driving tiny nails into his skull waking up would be fine.  As it was, this was atrocious.  Poe moved to roll over and, hopefully, settle back into oblivious, painless slumber but his bed apparently had shrunk and he ended up falling to the floor with a thud.

 

“Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!”

 

Poe peeled one eye open to find the source of that piece of naval advice and found himself on the floor of his living room, having, he surmised slowly, fallen off the couch.  Squinting, because it was as bright as the inside of the sun in his apartment, he made out Rey, curled up on his armchair, flailing one arm wildly as though directing a charge.

 

“What,” Poe grumbled, bringing his own arms up to hide himself from the inferno that was blazing through his window.  Was Paris on fire?  Should he be worried?

 

“It’s our only hope, commander.  Full speed.”

 

Poe groaned, which Rey seemed to take as agreement because she dropped her arm and mumbled something that sounded like “damn right” before settling down.  Poe rubbed his temples with the heels of his hands, deciding his best option was too keep his eyes closed until the room stopped spinning and then execute the difficult maneuver of heaving himself back on the couch.

 

Then came the pounding.  The pounding that did not sound like it was emanating from the inside of Poe’s head; the pounding, if Poe came to think of it, that had woken him from his oblivious, painless slumber in the first place.  Pounding.  Knocking.  Someone knocking.  Probably on a door.  His apartment had a door.  If he could make it to the door, he could make that someone stop the knocking.  That sounded like a more advanced maneuver than getting back on the couch though.

 

“Damn it, they’re coming for our flank!  Heave to starboard, commander!”

 

“Alright,” Poe whined.  “Settle down, admiral.  I’ve got it.”

 

Pushing himself to his knees, Poe paused to be sure he wouldn’t empty the content of his stomach on the floor.  Then, breathing deeply through his nose and keeping his eyes shut, he made his way to his feet and stood there swaying for a moment.  The pounding continued.  The pounding had to stop.  If that meant Poe had to make his way to the front door while his apartment swung back and forth like a trapeze artist, then that’s what Poe would do.  He ran into the wall to his left after five steps and the wall on his right three steps later and landed against his front door with another thud.

 

That made the pounding stop.

 

“Whatever it is, no,” Poe told the door.

 

“Poe?  It’s me.  Can I come in?”

 

Poe pulled back and squinted at the door.  “Finn?  Why does my door sound like you?”

 

There was a pause and then Finn’s amused voice said, “Unlock your door.  Open your door.”

 

Poe nodded then immediately regretted it as the door suddenly began to spin.  “Alright.  Give me a second.  It won’t stop moving.”

 

It took more than a second, but it wasn’t Poe’s fault the knob wouldn’t stay still.  Finally, he had the chain undone and the deadbolt unlocked, and Finn stepped into the apartment to have Poe fall against his chest with a muffled sigh.

 

“Long night,” Finn asked with a grin, keeping his voice soft.

 

“I don’t remember,” Poe managed.  He felt Finn put an arm around his waist and then Poe was moving back through his apartment, without hitting any walls this time.  He was deposited on the couch, much to his delight which he expressed with a long, satisfied moan as he leaned back into the cushions.

 

“Beat to quarters!  Enemy’s on our port!”

 

“Aye aye, sir,” Poe said lazily.  He heard Finn hum questioningly so Poe blinked his eyes open to look at his fiancé, who was staring at Rey in bemusement.  “We appear to be in the midst of an open-seas battle, my love,” he informed Finn.

 

“Good to know.  Shall I batten down the hatches,” Finn asked, smiling.

 

“I think that’s for storms, but you do whatever you think is best,” Poe replied amicably, closing his eyes again.  “Just stay away from the cannons, love.”

 

Poe had his eyes closed for a minute at most when he suddenly smelled what heaven must smell like.  Squinting again, Poe found that the curtains had been drawn so the blazing ball of fire that had been previously brightening the room was replaced with the more manageable glow of the lamp on the desk in the corner.  On the short table was a French press full of steaming coffee and two cups in saucers.  Poe reached for the press only to miss the handle.

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Finn said, coming around the couch with a plate in each hand.  “I’ll take care of it.  Do you want to wake Rey or should I?”

 

Poe watched as Finn placed a plate of sausages, toast with butter and jam, and a fried egg in front of him before turning and placing the second plate in front of her.  Then Finn picked up the coffee press and poured the dark miracle elixir into the cups.

 

“You’re a miracle,” Poe whispered reverently, picking up his cup and holding it to his face, just smelling the bitter tang and smiling.

 

“Thank you, Poe,” Finn beamed.  He reached over to Rey and shook her shoulder firmly.  “Come on, Rey.  Time for breakfast.”

 

“Man the lifeboats!”

 

“At ease, admiral,” Finn ordered.  “You’ve been relieved.”

 

“Huh?”  Rey rubbed her eyes with her fists then turned to Finn.  “What happened?”

 

“Breakfast,” Finn said cheerfully.  “Eat up then you can go back to sleep if you want.”

 

“Where did this come from,” Poe asked, picking up his plate carefully and examining the food.

 

“I made it,” Finn laughed.

 

“Where?”

 

“In your kitchen, Poe.  While you and Rey handled the naval exercises.”

 

“You’re amazing,” Rey stared at Finn. 

 

“Alright, you two.  Eat your breakfast,” Finn waved his hand towards their plates and Rey and Poe didn’t need to be told twice.

 

“I can’t wait until we’re married,” Poe said dreamily, lying back on the sofa with a full belly and an empty cup.  Rey was already dozing in the armchair.

 

Finn settled down on the floor, leaning against the sofa.  He had brought a few books with him when he had come over, assuming Poe and Rey would be sleeping most of the day.  “Well, you’re in luck,” Finn smiled.  “It’s May 1st.  Seven months to go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I'd leave out Luke's reaction to the engagement, did you? ;)  
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments for the first chapter! The support is amazing!


	3. Chapter 2: May, Part One

“How did we get talked into this,” Poe grumbled, pulling on the stiff collar of his shirt.

 

“Skywalkers,” Han mumbled back, fiddling with the cufflink he was attempting to attach, “can talk anyone into anything.  How do you think they became the imperial family?”

 

“God,” Poe sighed.  “What did we get ourselves into?”

 

“The way you two talk someone might think we were ordering you to the front line,” Leia said loudly, walking up to stand next to Han, grabbing the cufflink out of Han’s hand and threading in through the slots of his left shirt cuff.  “You are getting your photograph taken.  I’m certain the two of you can manage that.”

 

Poe felt like he had just been scolded by his mother so he let his fingers fall from his collar and he clasped his hands behind his back.

 

Han, however, shot Leia a slight glare.  “Why are we doing this?”

 

“Formal portraits are traditional,” Leia replied easily.  “Poe and Finn need to have an engagement photograph taken, even if there is not to be an official announcement.  Although why you refuse to place an announcement of the happy occasion is beyond me,” she finished, giving Poe a hard look.

 

Han and Poe exchanged a telling glance.  “I don’t think it would be appropriate,” Poe said slowly. 

 

“Give him a break, your majesty,” Han interjected, drawing Leia’s attention back to him.  “So Poe and Finn need to be photographed; why are we here?”

 

“Because I asked you and Aunt Leia to be photographed as well and you both said you would,” Finn said as he came to stand next to Poe, smiling brightly and wrapping an arm around Poe’s waist.  “The photographer said he’s ready for the two of you.”

 

Han groaned, rolling his eyes upwards.  Leia gave him a quick slap on the wrist before striding across the library to the large red upholstered chair which had been placed next to the fireplace by the photographer’s assistant.  The large electric lights and box camera were set up, and the photographer was adjusting the painted screen behind the chair.

 

“I was a general you know,” Han muttered to Poe.

 

“You’ll survive,” Poe laughed.  “Now go be pretty, General.”

 

Han scowled but made his way over to the photographer, who was arranging Leia’s long white and silver train around her feet as she sat perched in the chair before turning his attention to Han.

 

Poe turned to smile at his fiancé.  “You look beautiful, love.  I remember the first time you wore this suit.”  Poe pulled Finn close and grinned.  “You were so nervous about meeting your father again.”

 

“I remember you staring at me with your mouth hanging open,” Finn teased, draping both arms around Poe’s neck, “and then you tried to play it off like you weren’t gaping at me.”

 

“No one should look this good in purple, my love.  You can’t blame me for admiring.”

 

“I suppose,” Finn agreed, feeling his cheeks grow warm.  “You look great too.”

 

Poe’s smile softened.  That was one of the adorable things about Finn that Poe didn’t realize he would love.  While Poe could wax poetic about just about anything related to his fiancé, that wasn’t Finn’s style.  Poe assumed Finn hadn’t had much exposure to romantic declarations and such between being raised in seclusion by Luke for his early years and the orphanage.  Not that Poe minded because every small compliment from Finn glowed with a level of sincerity that was staggering.  Poe had nothing to compete with that.

 

“Thank you, love.  I try not to be an embarrassment to you,” Poe joked.

 

Finn’s eyebrows drew together.  “What are you talking about?  You could never embarrass me.”

 

“I’m only teasing you,” Poe reassured, although privately pleased by that statement.  He glanced over at Han and Leia.  “Is it just me or does Han look ready to run the photographer through with a letter opener?”

 

“Poe,” Finn took a deep breath, “you know I don’t care about having an announcement or not, right?”

 

“What?”  Poe turned his attention back to Finn, who had taken a small step back.  “I’m sorry.  We never asked you.  I swear I didn’t mean to ignore you, Finn.”

 

“No, it’s alright,” Finn shrugged.  “Maybe try not to do that again, but that’s not what I meant.”  Finn’s gaze dropped to the floor.  “I honestly don’t care about an announcement.”

 

“Great,” Poe smiled.  “I’m glad we agree on that.”

 

“But why don’t you want an announcement?”

 

“Does it matter,” Poe asked.  “Neither of us want one.”  Finn just stared at Poe, who sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.  “Look, we’re in love so you don’t see how our marriage will appear to the world.  You’re a grand duke marrying someone who doesn’t have a title, a rank, a family name of any importance.  I know you don’t care about that, but other people will.  I don’t need every newspaper in the world writing about what a terrible match you’ve made.  It’ll upset you and annoy the hell out of me.  Everyone who matters knows we’re engaged, so what’s the point of telling the world?”

 

Finn was silent for a moment.  “But you don’t think any of that, right?  It doesn’t bother you, right?”

 

“What, that other people will think you’ve made a terrible match?”  Poe shrugged.  “It’s not new information to me.  I’m well aware you could do better.  I’m just lucky enough that you love me.”

 

“Your turn,” Han said, coming up and slapping a hand down on Poe’s shoulder.  Poe turned to laugh, missing the alarmed look that had come over Finn’s face.

 

“You survived,” Poe said drily.  “I wasn’t sure you’d make it through the great Battle of the Camera.”

 

“Very funny.  Let’s see how you enjoy standing there like a stuffed bear.”

 

*****

 

“Do you think I would be a good pilot?”

 

“What?”  Poe looked up from the ham and cheese baguette he was unwrapping at his desk to stare at the young woman across from him.  He had been at the studio since seven and had had back-to-back appointments the whole morning.  Frankly the sandwich had been Poe’s motivation since his second session of the day.

 

“You know, flying.”

 

“Jess, you can barely manage to answer the telephone.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?  I think I would be a great pilot,” Jess said, taking a large bite out of her own sandwich.

 

“I think flying an airplane takes more coordination than managing the front desk at a fencing studio, and you can barely do the latter.”

 

Jess rolled her eyes.  She tried to introduce some whimsy and fun to her and Poe’s occasional lunch dates, since they rarely happened between her manning the front desk and Poe’s organized chaos of a life.  But if Poe was going to be serious then what was the point?

 

“Have you ever wanted to fly,” Jess asked.

 

“Of course,” Poe smiled.  “Who hasn’t?”

 

“If someone walked in here and gave you an airplane you would take it?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Jess nodded.  “Same.  Snap and Bastian said they would too.  If we all got planes the fencing studio could be a squadron!”

 

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Poe laughed.  There was a knock on the office door and Poe called, “If you’re here with an airplane, park it out front and I’ll deal with it later.”

 

“An airplane?”  Finn opened the door and popped head in.  “Why do you need an airplane?”

 

“Buddy!  What are you doing here?”  Poe got up and came around the desk to pull Finn into the room.  He pressed a quick kiss to Finn’s cheek.  “Were we meeting up today?  I thought--,” Poe broke off to look at large leather planner on his desk.  He had laughed when Snap had given it to him, saying he would never need it.  He hated that he now had every day of the month filled with penciled-in appointments and plans.

 

“I wanted to drop by.  Hi, Jess,” Finn said with a little wave.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”

 

“No problem, Finn,” Jess smiled, gathering her napkin and sandwich wrappings.  “But I will accept your apology for not bringing me any of that amazing chocolate.  You know you have to pay the fine when you come to visit.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “I left the chocolate at the front desk.  Bastian was very pleased.”

 

“You gave it to _Bastian_?”  Jess looked horrified.  “He doesn’t deserve it!”  She took off down the hallway shouting, “Get your grubby hands off that chocolate!”

 

Laughing Finn turned back to Poe.  “I like her.  She’s funny.”

 

“She’s insane,” Poe corrected, leaning against his desk.  “So what brings you around?  Needed a break from the library?”

 

Finn gave a noncommittal head tilt.  He had been spending most of his spare time at libraries at the Sorbonne researching an idea he had for a project.  He had wanted to get away from the books and documents for a while.  That wasn’t why he was at the studio though.  He had worked up his nerves enough to get this far, but now came the hard part.

 

“I wanted to—can I sit down?” 

 

“Of course,” Poe said, starting to suspect his fiancé was tip-toeing around something.  He gestured to the chair Jess had been seated in and Finn lowered himself down.  Poe felt awkward standing above Finn, so he moved to sit back down, across the desk from Finn.  This also felt uncomfortable but it would have to do.  “Do you want to talk about something,” Poe prompted gently.

 

Finn looked nervous.  Poe could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Finn this apprehensive, which was concerning but Poe didn’t want to alarm his fiancé any more than he already was so he tried to keep an easy smile on his face.

 

“I want to—there’s something I wanted to--,” Finn huffed, twisting his fingers together.  “Remember when we were getting photographed?”

 

“Yes, I do.  It was five days ago, Finn; my memory’s not that bad,” Poe said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

It didn’t seem to have the desired effect as Finn gulped and lifted his head to stare straight into Poe’s eyes.  It was now or never.  “You said I could do better,” he blurted out.  “You said I could do better than marrying you.”

 

“I did say that,” Poe nodded.  “I should add--,”

 

“Well I can’t,” Finn continued.  “You also said that I was too good for you.”

 

“Did I?”  Poe blinked.  “That sounds like me but I also--,”

 

“I’m not.  Too good for you.  And I’ve been thinking about it and you have it backwards.”

 

“What,” Poe frowned.

 

“You could do better than marrying me,” Finn said quickly.  “I’ve thought about it and I really don’t have anything to offer.  You have a job and a place to live and friends and a life and I really don’t have anything to add to that.  And you could find someone who would add to your life, if you weren’t in love with me.  But I wanted you to know that I know.  And I’m going to try and find something that I can add.  But it might take some time.  So if you can be patient.  I can do that.”

 

Poe had no idea what he looked like but he felt horrified.  He stared at Finn, who had finished his piece he had been mentally practicing for days and was feeling relieved.  Poe cleared his throat, coughed, then cleared his throat again.

 

“I don’t know where to start with that,” Poe said softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.  He glanced down at the desk and then across at Finn.  “No, this isn’t right.”  He got up quickly and came around to Finn’s seat.  He took the arms of the chair and pulled the chair and Finn around to the side before kneeling down and taking Finn’s hands in his.  “Much better.”

 

“Poe, you don’t—why are you--,” Finn tried to get Poe to stand up but Poe wouldn’t budge.

 

“No, Finn.  I sat there and listened to you, now you can do the same for me, okay?  Can you do that for me, love?”  Finn nodded, eyes darting between Poe’s face and their clasped hands.  “Thank you.  I love you.  You know that, don’t you?  You know I love you and want to spend my life with you, right?”

 

“Yeah.  I didn’t mean—I don’t want to call of the wedding,” Finn gasped, alarmed.

 

“Okay, good.  That’s good. Great.  We’re in love and engaged.  That’s not changing,” Poe said firmly.  “Now about this ridiculous idea that you don’t have anything to add to my life.  Finn, you made my life.  I wouldn’t have any of this without you.”

 

“You would have gotten out of Russia somehow, Poe.  You didn’t need me to--,”

 

“Ten years, Finn.  Han and I were living day-to-day, never knowing when we’d be arrested next, for ten years.  If we hadn’t met you and gotten the slightest amount of hope that we could get to Paris with a purpose we would still be in St. Petersburg.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” Finn said slowly.  “But even if that was true, that was over a year ago.  I haven’t been able to do anything for you since--,”

 

“Finn, do you know when I fell in love with you?”

 

Frowning, Finn shrugged.  “On the bridge?  After Ben tried to drown me again?”

 

“No, that was when I finally got the nerve to tell you.  And even then you had to say it first.  You’re much braver than I am, you know?”  Poe smiled.  “No, looking back I can point to the exact moment I first thought that I might be in love with you.  It was on the train, after you pulled that stunt with the dynamite and scared the hell out of me.”

 

“I was just--,”

 

“Helping, I know.”  Poe shook his head, smiling.  “You’re always ‘just helping,’ love.  So after you _helped_ with the dynamite, after Han yelled at you, after we tied up the First Order jerks, I turned to you and asked if you were ready to jump off a moving train car with me.  Do you remember what you said?”

 

“I said yes,” Finn answered, confused.

 

“You said yes.  You looked me straight in the eye, took my hand, and said yes.  When you had no reason in the world to.  You had known me for a day.  We had fought less than an hour before; I had called you a child.  I treated you like a child the entire time I had known you, and you knew that and you hated it.  But for some reason you trusted me despite all that.  No one ever trusted me like you did, Finn.  I’ve always had to prove myself, earn it.  But there was this wide-eyed, optimistic, smiling orphan, dressed in patches and talking to his dog, this kid I had already dismissed as—well, as a kid—and you trusted me as easily as you breathed.  And I didn’t deserve it.  I still don’t deserve it.  But I will spend the rest of my life trying to earn what you already gave me.  So don’t think for a second you need to add anything else to my life, because I haven’t earned what you’ve already added.”

 

Finn blinked, trying to absorb everything Poe had just said.  He sniffed, glancing down at their hands.  Poe gave Finn’s hands a firm squeeze. 

 

“I don’t like it when you say I could do better or that I’m too good for you,” Finn finally muttered.

 

“I won’t say that anymore,” Poe said, nodding.  “To be honest I was joking when I said you were too good for me.  I mean, you are, but I didn’t mean for it to upset you.”

 

“But why do you say that?”

 

“I don’t know, Finn,” Poe shrugged and shook his head.  “It’s an expression; it’s something romantic—something I thought was romantic.”

 

“I thought you were insecure.”

 

“That’s sweet, Finn, but no.  I’m insecure about a lot of things, and I’ll admit I was insecure about being with you at the beginning, but not anymore.  I know you love me and that’s that.”  Poe released one of Finn’s hands to rub his eyes and was surprised to find he had tears rolling down his cheeks.  “Damn.  I don’t know the last time I cried, Finn.  Now,” Poe said, wiping away the tears, “get down here and kiss me.”

 

Finn laughed a little wetly himself, sliding off his seat and into Poe’s arms.  After a few misses, Finn and Poe settled against each other, lips meeting, Poe’s hands gripping Finn’s face while Finn’s arms wrapped around Poe’s waist.  Poe had to fight himself not to grin because kissing and smiling didn’t work, which was tough because every time he kissed Finn he wanted to smile.

 

“Excuse me, am I interrupting?”

 

Poe jerked away, pulling Finn against him and pushing Finn’s head down to his shoulder to hide his fiancé from whoever was now standing in the doorway of his office.  Poe looked up at the tall, elderly man with a groomed white goatee, monocle, and bespoke blue suit.

 

“Monsieur Tolbert.  Is it time for your session,” Poe asked a little breathlessly.

 

“I am a bit early, Dameron.”  Tolbert leveled his gaze at Finn’s back.  “In my day we did not have to kneel on the floor to kiss.”

 

“No, of course not,” Poe said quickly, getting to his feet with Finn, who looked mildly mortified but still more at ease than when he had entered the office earlier.  “This is my fiancé, Finn Skywalker.  Finn, this is Mr. Tolbert, one of my clients.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Finn smiled, holding out his hand.

 

Tolbert looked Finn up and down before taking Finn’s hand.  “The pleasure’s mine, my boy.  Skywalker.  Any relation to Luke?”

 

“He’s my father."

 

“Then tell him that he and I are overdue for a bout, if he’s brave enough,” Tolbert nodded.  He turned to Poe.  “I will meet you in the studio shortly, Dameron.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Tolbert.  Of course.”  Poe watched Tolbert turn and make his way to the dressing room.  “Well, that was a little embarrassing,” Poe said easily.

 

“I feel like your father just walked in on us,” Finn whispered.

 

“I don’t know how Dad would have reacted,” Poe drew out, rubbing a hand up and down Finn’s back.  “He probably wouldn’t have cared.  Might have told me to have some respect and not make you kneel on the ground.”

 

Finn laughed.  “Your father and my father sound so different.”

 

“They are.  Well, were,” Poe shrugged.  “I should probably get back to work.  Can I see you tonight?  We could go to dinner.”

 

“I’d like that, but maybe tomorrow?  I have some more research and writing to do; I’m going to be in the library until it closes,” Finn said with a slight frown.

 

“Dinner tomorrow.  Sounds perfect,” Poe leaned in to press a quick kiss to the corner of Finn’s mouth.  “Can you meet me here?  I’m free after seven.”

 

“I’ll be here.  I love you, Poe.”

 

“I love you so much, Finn.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  Poe watched Finn walk off down the hall, before turning back into his office with a sigh.  He eyed his abandoned sandwich with regret.  “So much for a lunch break,” he mumbled to himself, putting his fencing jacket back on and taking his rapier from its stand.

 

*****

 

“Dameron.”  Luke stared at his son’s fiancé who was standing stiffly in the entrance way of Luke’s home.  “My son isn’t here.”

 

“I know.  He told me he was working late at the library tonight.”  Poe clasped his hands behind his back.  “I wanted to speak with you, sir.”

 

Luke nodded slowly.  “Very well.  We can speak in my study.”  Poe fell into step behind the dowager emperor as they made their way through to the living quarters of the house.  Luke wracked his brain for what Dameron could want with him.  The pair of them had been cordial for the past few weeks.  He wouldn’t go so far as to say that he enjoyed Dameron’s presence, but he could tolerate the man when he wasn’t going out of his way to annoy Luke.  Luke opened the door to his study and gestured to two leather armchairs situated by the tall windows.  “Please, take a seat.  Will you join me in a drink?”

 

Poe sighed, sinking into one of the chairs.  “After the day I’ve had, yes.  Thank you, sir.”

 

Luke nodded, pouring a healthy dose of brandy into two glasses before making his way to the seats.  He handed Poe one of the glasses, who silently toasted Luke before taking a gulp.

 

“What would you like to discuss with me, Dameron,” Luke asked, settling into his armchair.

 

“The announcement.”  Poe looked down at the amber liquid in his glass and gave the glass a short swirl to watch the brandy spin first up one edge of the glass and then another.  “I’ve changed my mind.  There should be one.”

 

“I see.”  Luke blinked and glanced down at his own glass.  “May I ask why the sudden change of heart?”

 

Poe heaved a sigh.  “Finn came to see me today.  We talked.”

 

“I thought he was in class today,” Luke said with a slight edge.  His son knew better than to miss classes.

 

“He has a break between his class on ancient Rome and the one about popular revolts,” Poe replied quickly.  “Although I still don’t know why he’s taking a class on revolutions.  He could probably teach one if he wanted to.”  Poe noticed the dowager emperor was giving him an odd look.  “What?  I know his schedule better than my own.”

 

“So I gather.” Luke suppressed a slight smile.  “Now then, between my son’s classes you and he had a discussion.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I was under the impression you and he were of one mind on this particular topic.”

 

Poe shrugged.  “He said he doesn’t care about the announcement.  I believe him.  But he said a lot today and—I want to do this for him.”

 

Luke ran a hand across his jaw before leaning back and studying Poe.  “Is there anything I should be concerned about, Dameron?”

 

“No, sir.  You know how Finn is.  He’s bright and confident about everything until something happens that he doesn’t know how to handle and then he’s fixated.”  Poe took another swallow of brandy.  “He worked himself up over something I said.  Got it into his head that he doesn’t have anything to recommend himself.”

 

“What,” Luke asked alarmed. 

 

“I know, sir.  If it helps, I think I’ve talked him out of that particular train of thought.”  Poe grimaced, “But still, it made me realize that Finn thinks I don’t want to have an announcement because I’m—ashamed.  Insecure.  And he’s right.”  Poe met Luke’s gaze.  “But I shouldn’t be.  Finn reminded me—or forced me to remember—that.  So I want to give him this, and maybe it will help me too.”

 

Luke was silent, watched as Poe took another sip of his drink, and considered the man across from him.  After a moment Luke put down his own glass and said, “Tell me about your parents.”

 

“Huh?  My parents?”  Poe blinked.  “Why?”

 

“Indulge me.”

 

Poe stared at Luke, wondering if the dowager emperor had lost his mind.  Luke had never expressed the slightest interest in Poe’s life unless it related to Finn.  But he had asked and with a shrug Poe decided he could use the distraction.

 

“My father was in the infantry,” Poe started.  “Kes Dameron.  He died a colonel, but he began as an enlisted foot soldier.  My mother, Shara Bey, was a blacksmith in this small village about two hundred kilometers south of St. Petersburg.  Her father was the town smith until he got sick, and so Mom took over the forge.  One day Dad was making his way back following leave and his horse lost one of its shoes.  He stopped at the nearest town to get a replacement and met my mother.”

 

Luke waited, but Poe didn’t continue the story so he prompted, “And then?”

 

Poe chuckled.  “Finn is so like you.  Well, sir, then my father fell in love at first sight.  Covered in soot and brandishing a set hotcut that was almost as big as she was, Dad said he never saw anyone more beautiful.  Mom said he just stood in the doorway, gaping at her like an idiot.  She wasn’t impressed at all by this soldier.  He asked her to marry him while she was fitting his horse with its new shoe.  She told him no.  But he won her over.  He wrote her letters, sometimes two or more a day, from wherever his unit was.  After a year of writing letters back and forth, Mom decided to accept his proposals.  So the next time he got leave he rode straight to her parents’ house and asked for her hand.  They were married three days later.”

 

“It appears this strange desire for a quick wedding you have is inherited.”

 

“That’s right, sir.  Blame my father.”   Poe exhaled heavily.  “Well, after that, they continued living that way: Mom worked the forge, Dad would visit when he was on leave.  After a couple years I was born.  Dad was there.  Mom said he was so excited, wouldn’t let me go for the first couple of days.  But then he had to leave.  I never saw Dad for more than a week at a time.  I took after Mom—reckless, wild.  I started to learn how to fence with the swords she used to make.  Dad said her swords were the best in Russia.”  Poe trailed off, taking another sip.  “She died when I was eight.”

 

“An accident?”

 

“No, she just got sick and didn’t get better.”  Poe leaned back.  “Dad arrived a day late.  He was heartbroken.  He wouldn’t let me out of his sight.  But he had to rejoin his unit and he didn’t know what to do with me.  But he had met Han somewhere, and Han had recently been promoted to the head of the Imperial Guard.  So Dad asked Han to pull some strings to have me admitted into the training program for the Guard.  I moved to St. Petersburg, and Dad came to visit me every time he had leave, just like he always had.  He even wrote me letters.”  Poe glanced down at his now empty glass.  “He was in St. Petersburg when the coup happened.  On leave.  He fought against the First Order.  I was arrested.  They—the soldiers who were guarding me, asked if I was related to Colonel Dameron.  I said I was.  That I was proud to be his son.  They had killed him, earlier that night.  Stabbed him from behind, like cowards.”  Poe shook his head.  “And that’s the story of Kes Dameron and Shara Bey.  It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

 

Luke stood up swiftly and walked over to his desk.  Confused Poe followed more slowly, watching as the dowager emperor as he began to quickly write.  Neither spoke while Luke continued to write.  Poe shifted his weight uncertainly, clasping his hands behind his back.  After another moment Luke set his pen down and looked across at Poe.

 

“I never knew your parents, but I would have been honored to have met them.”  Luke looked back at the sheet of paper before him, missing Poe’s jaw drop open.  “From what I have heard you have nothing to be ashamed of.  From what I have witnessed your parents would be proud of you.  I think, in light of what I have heard, this,” Luke continued, handing Poe the paper, “would be an appropriate announcement for you and my son.”

 

Taking the sheet from the dowager emperor, Poe shot a skeptical look at Luke before glancing down to read what was written.  He finished, glanced up at Luke, and then read the announcement again.

 

Poe cleared his throat.  “It’s perfect, sir, except…” Poe reached over to take the pen and then added a few words.  “There.  What do you think, sir?”  Poe handed the sheet back.  Luke scanned what Poe had written.

 

“Excellent, Dameron.  I’ll send it to the papers tomorrow, along with the formal portrait.”

 

“Could you arrange to have it released on the 16th, sir?”

 

Luke smiled.  “It would be my pleasure.”                   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the comments and kudos! They make me very happy :)  
> This chapter is a bit heavy for Poe, a bit heavier than the last two chapters in general. But you know, there has to be some bumps in the road. But I hope you like it!


	4. Chapter 3: May, Part Two

Poe bit his tongue in concentration as he tilted the pan slowly to the left and then around to the right before setting the pan back on the stove.  This one will be the best of the lot so long as Poe got the flip right.  He glanced over at the small pile of crepes on the plate at his elbow.  His mother had taught him how to make crepes when he was four, and it was the only mildly impressive he knows how to make.  He never bothered to make them for himself, but he was expecting an unannounced visit this morning and the occasion called for something special.

 

He ran his spatula around the edge of the crepe before slipping the spatula under the crepe and flipping it in one smooth motion.  Perfect.  He let the crepe finish cooking while he got out a jar of strawberry jam, a jar of honey, and a spoon to finish off breakfast.  Poe slid the last crepe off the pan and onto the plate with his earlier attempts.  He clicked off the stove before taking the crepes and accompanying paraphernalia out of the kitchen and into his living room.  He didn’t have a dining table, but he had moved his desk away from the wall and had set two places, one with his desk chair and the other with the armchair he pulled over.  Poe put everything down before grasping his cup of coffee with a satisfied sigh and taking a long sip.

 

He grinned when a series of frantic knocks began against his apartment door.  Right on time.  He leisurely made his way over and opened the door, prepared to play it casual.  He was not prepared to suddenly have his arms full with his fiancé, who kicked the door shut behind him and pushed Poe up against the wall, kissing him hard and fierce.  Surprised but not upset by the turn of events, Poe pressed back with equal force, arms wrapping tightly around Finn’s waist.  Finn’s hands were grasping Poe’s shirtfront, and it felt like he was trying his best to melt into Poe.  Poe wasn’t complaining.

 

Pulling away, gasping for breath, Poe chuckled.  “Wow.  Good morning.”

 

“I can’t believe you did it,” Finn panted, his hands flexing against Poe’s shirt.  “I love it.  Thank you so much.  It’s perfect.”  He was staring into Poe’s face as though he wasn’t sure Poe was real.

 

“Did what,” Poe asked innocently, running his fingers along Finn’s back, following the faded scar line he had only seen once but was imprinted on his mind all the same.

 

Finn drew back slightly, not enough to leave Poe’s arms but so he was able to pull out a sheet of newspaper from his jacket pocket.  He pushed the sheet against Poe’s chest with flat palms so Poe’s back hit the wall again.  Poe’s eyes widened approvingly, bringing a hand up to cover Finn’s hands on his chest.  Poe took the newspaper from Finn, drew Finn back against him so Finn’s head rested on his shoulder, and then looked at the sheet over Finn’s shoulder.

 

_Poe Dameron, the son of the late Colonel Kes Dameron of the Imperial Russian infantry and the late Shara Bey,_

_is proud to announce his engagement to Fyodor Finn Skywalker,_

_the son of Luke Skywalker and heir of Leia Skywalker-Organa._

_A wedding is planned for December._

 

Poe smiled gently.  It read as he and Luke had agreed.  Poe turned his attention to the accompanying photograph, which he had not seen before.  In it, Poe and Finn were standing in front of the screen, painted with watercolor mountains; Poe had one arm around Finn’s waist while his other hand was in his trouser pocket; Finn was turned slightly to the side, resting one hand on Poe’s shoulder while his other arm hung at his side.  Both were staring at each other with what could only be called looks of soft devotion.  Poe couldn’t believe Luke had chosen this as the formal photograph.  He vaguely wondered how bad the other photographs were, but he was quickly distracted by Finn, who began to rub his nose along Poe’s jawline.  He then noticed that Finn was speaking.

 

“—and then we can make love on your sofa--,”

 

“I beg your pardon,” Poe said shocked, pushing Finn so he held him at arm’s length.

 

Finn smirked.  “I wanted to see if you were listening.  You sort of went into your own world for a minute.”

 

Poe frowned at that.  “There are more appropriate ways of getting my attention, Finn.”

 

“Yeah, but this way is more fun,” Finn replied, moving to kiss Poe again.  Poe kissed back because how could he not?  Finn moved a hand to cup the side of Poe’s face, and Poe hummed his appreciation.  If this was Finn’s reaction to public declarations of love Poe could see the appeal.  Poe slid a hand up to cradle the back of Finn’s head so he could lean forward slightly to dip Finn backwards, keeping their lips sealed together.  Poe felt Finn moan, like a spark of electricity from Poe’s mind to his toes.

 

Poe’s eyes shot open and he pulled back enough to see Finn’s face.  Panting slightly, he watched Finn blink his eyes open and whine softly, gazing up at Poe.  They stayed like that for a few moments.  Then, as clearly as though he was in the room, Poe heard Luke’s voice, _“I expect you to behave with the utmost respect and propriety regarding my son.  I will know if you do not and I will put an end to it, starting with you, Dameron._ ”

 

“I made breakfast,” Poe blurted out.

 

“What,” Finn asked, dazed.

 

Poe straightened, taking Finn with him, and then used his hand on Finn’s waist to push him gently towards the desk.  “Breakfast.  Crepes.  I made crepes.”

 

Finn moved blindly in the direction Poe guided him, still trying to catch up with turn of events.  He found himself led and lowered into Poe’s armchair.  “I don’t--,”

 

“Do you know how to do this,” Poe asked, focusing on plating a crepe for Finn, opening the jam jar.  Out of the corner of his eye, Poe saw Finn shake his head with a look of sheer befuddlement on his face.  “Well, I’ll show you.  It’s easy.  You take a big dollop of the jam.  As much as you want.  Spread it on the crepe, like this.  Then you fold it, like this.  Take the top of the crepe, pull it up, tuck the sides in, and then put the top—well, on top.  Makes a triangle, see?  Then you can take the honey, if you want.  I don’t usually put honey on mine, but you have a sweet tooth.  Just pour some honey over the top, like this.  And there you go.  Try it.”

 

Finn looked from Poe to the plate he had just slid in front of him, with the assembled breakfast on it.  Mindlessly, Finn picked up his fork, cut a small piece of the crepe, and brought in to his mouth.  Finn’s eyes widened.  “It’s sweet!”

 

“Well, that’s mostly the honey.  If you don’t like it--,” Poe stopped himself as he watched Finn quickly cut himself another sliver of crepe.  Poe chuckled, “Well, that answers that, I guess.”  Poe quickly made himself a crepe, skipping the honey so he could eat it with his hands.  Crisis adverted. 

 

“You can tell me, you know?”  Finn smiled as Poe’s head snapped up in surprise.  “If you think we’re going too far you can tell me.  You don’t have to distract me with breakfast.  Although,” Finn said, pointing at his now empty plate with his fork, “that was delicious.  You can make me these whenever you want.”

 

Poe cleared his throat.  “Okay.  I can work on that.  Telling you.  The crepes are only for special occasions,” he finished with a wink.

 

“Or,” Finn drew out, reaching across to take Poe’s hand, “you could relax a bit.”  Finn paused to stroke his thumb along Poe’s wrist.  “Maybe you don’t have to pull back?”

 

Poe stared at his fiancé, glancing down where their hands were joined.  Adjusting his hold Poe gripped Finn’s fingers and brought his hand to his lips to place a quick kiss on the back of Finn’s hand.  “Were you born sin incarnate or did you learn these tricks from someone I should be worried about, my love?”

 

Finn tossed his head back and laughed.  “I did grow up the son of an unmarried emperor.  If you don’t think I saw men and women try all kinds of wiles on him--,”

 

Poe groaned, leaning his forehead on their joined hands.  “God, you’re going to get me in trouble, Finn.”

 

“I don’t think Papa would actually dismember you,” Finn said helpfully.

 

“The fact that neither of us are certain of that--,”

 

“Besides it _is_ my birthday.”

 

“And I want to be around for many more of your birthdays, love.”  Poe gave Finn’s hand a brief squeeze before releasing it and reaching for his now lukewarm coffee.  “Do you have any plans for today?  I know we have the party tonight.”

 

“Not a party,” Finn corrected, taking another crepe and reaching for the jam.  “You know we Skywalkers are cursed when it comes to parties.”  Finn glared playfully at Poe who shrugged in agreement.  “Since I don’t have class today--,”

 

“Why not,” Poe asked.

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “Careful.  You sounded like Papa.”  Poe shuddered at that.  “Because final exams are next week.  This week is a study week.  Anyway, while you’re at work Rey and Han and I are going to go around the city.  Han said he’ll take me to get a tattoo if I want—oh my God, are you choking?”

 

Finn jumped out of his seat but Poe waved him back.  “No—I’m—you’re going to get a tattoo?”

 

“Well I’m going to watch Han get one,” Finn replied, watching with concern as Poe buried his face in his hands.  “Rey wants one as well.  I don’t think I will, especially if that’s your reaction.”

 

“You surprised me,” Poe said, muffled behind his hands.  “You do whatever you want.”

 

“I don’t know what I would get,” Finn shrugged.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” Poe dropped his hands from his face and leaned forward, catching Finn’s worried gaze easily, “why don’t you watch Rey and Han get their tattoos today?  If you still want to get one after that, I’ll take you.  I’ll even get one too if you want.  After we’re married,” Poe added.  “That way Luke can’t kill me without making you a widower.”

 

Finn grinned.  “Deal,” he beamed, holding out his hand.  Poe took it and shook it in a business manner.

 

“Now that that’s sorted, I have to get to the studio,” Poe said, finishing his coffee and standing.  “If you want to stay and finish, I’ll leave you my key.”

 

“Thank you.  Rey is meeting me here, so if you don’t mind…”

 

“I don’t mind at all.  The key is on the coffee table.  Have a good day!”

 

_**One week later**_

 

“Poe, Finn is on the phone.”

 

“Can you take a message for me, Jess,” Poe asked distractedly, circling around Madame Delacroix.  “You’re not extending your left leg enough, Madame.  That’s where all the power of the lunge comes from.  Reset.”

 

“Poe,” Jess interjected.  The fact that she sounded serious and Jess was never fully serious made Poe glance up.  “He says it’s an emergency.  He said to tell you ‘left arrow.’”

 

Poe’s jaw clenched and shoulders locked back.  “Thank you, Jess.  Madame Delacroix, I have to take this call.  Ms. Pava will take over the rest of your lesson.”  Striding out of the room, Poe paused to whisper in Jess’s ear, “Thank you.  Tell Snap I had to leave.  I’ll call later.”

 

“Alright, now go,” Jess hissed back.

 

Poe went, hurrying down to corridor and down the stairs to the front desk, where Jess had left the phone off the hook.

 

“Hello, Finn?”

 

“Poe!  I’m so sorry,” came Finn’s frantic reply.  “I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to come to the 8th arrondissement commissariat, please!”

 

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Poe responded promptly.  “Are you hurt?  Do I need to bring anything,” he hinted heavily.

 

“No.  Well, you will probably need your wallet but—what?”  There was a short pause on Finn’s end, and Poe reached for a sheet of paper and a pen to leave a note for Snap.  “Poe, they say I have to hang up now.  I love you; I’m sorry.”

 

“I love you too.  I’ll see you soon.”  Poe waited until he heard Finn hang up before putting the phone back in the cradle.  He quickly scribbled where he was going, instructing Snap to wait until he hears back from Poe before telling the dowagers anything, and that Poe would call as soon as he could, signing it Left Arrow.  Next he headed back up the stairs and to his office, where he changed out of his fencing jacket and into his street clothes, grabbed his hat and double-checking that he had his wallet in his inside pocket before heading out.

 

Once on the street, Poe hailed a taxi at the corner.

 

“Eighth arrondissement commissariat, please,” he told the driver.

 

In the rearview mirror the taxi driver gave Poe a skeptical look.  “The police? Is everything alright?”

 

“I’m meeting someone there,” Poe replied tersely.  “As soon as possible.”

 

The driver shrugged and directed the taxi back into traffic.  Poe sighed and leaned back into the cushioned seat, looking out the window.  Left arrow.  Non-life-threatening emergency.  Finn had been convinced Poe was teasing him when Poe had introduced the idea of code words last year.  But Poe had persisted, with the memory of the fear of Finn’s kidnapping fresh in his mind.  Finn had relented enough to listen and recite back the codes Poe and Han had devised, all the while insisting he would never need to use them.  And he hadn’t, until today.

 

Poe ran a hand through his hair and tried to calm himself with deep, steady breathes.  Finn had sounded nervous but unharmed over the phone.  He’s at a police station and, unlike in Russia, that was a relatively safe place to be.  Still, Poe couldn’t stop his mind from running through increasingly awful but non-life-threatening things that could have happened, running the gambit from Finn getting hit by a car to Finn witnessing a murder and on and on until the taxi pulled to a stop in front of a three-story stone building with a blue light hanging by the door.

 

“Here we are,” the driver said.  Poe passed five francs to him and made to get out.  “Hope your friend is okay.”

 

“Me too.  Thanks.”  Poe gave a small wave to the driver before stepping out onto the sidewalk, slamming the door, and sprinting up the steps into the police station.  Once inside he made a bee-line for the front desk.

 

“Yes,” a disinterested officer asked, barely glancing up from his newspaper.

 

“My fiancé called me from here,” Poe answered.  “His name is Fyodor Finn Skywalker.”

 

Usually giving Finn’s full name garnered a certain reaction, but to Poe’s surprise the officer merely glanced up and smirked.  “Oh, him.  Yeah, Dukes is here.  You Poe Dameron?”

 

“Yes,” Poe said, taking his papers from his wallet and handing them over.  “Why are you calling him ‘Dukes’?”

 

The officer looked over Poe’s identification papers.  “Well, he was arrested for stealing a baguette.  Then he starts claiming he’s a grand duke.”  The officer handed Poe’s papers back, unperturbed by the look of shock on Poe’s face.  “I don’t know many grand dukes, but usually they don’t have to steal bread,” the officer finished, shrugging.

 

“He was _arrested_ ,” Poe asked, gaping.

 

The officer stood and gestured for Poe to follow him back into the station.  “Arrested for stealing a 1-franc baguette.  He’s back here in the holding cell.”

 

After hearing ‘holding cell’ Poe began to walk faster.  The idea of Finn in any kind of cell did not sit well with him.  The officer stopped in front of a wall of grating and waved his hand.  Poe came forward and saw Finn, hands cuffed in front of him, sitting on a long wooden bench, talking casually with an older woman, also cuffed.

 

“Dukes, your fiancé is here,” the officer called out.  Finn’s head snapped around, eyes wide.  The officer leaned forward and said lowly to Poe, “The baker is planning on pressing charges.”

 

“Poe,” Finn gasped, hurrying to the grates.  “I’m so sorry!”

 

“Finn, are you alright,” Poe asked urgently.  Finn’s manacled hands came up to grip the bars and Poe responded by grasping Finn’s fingers.  “Tell me what happened.”

 

“It’s so stupid,” Finn murmured, his eyes dropping to the floor.  Poe reached out through the grate and tilted Finn’s face up again, catching his eyes.  Finn met his fiancé’s concerned gaze and shivered.  “There was a boy, maybe six years old.  He looked like he lives on the street.  He was trying to buy some bread, but he didn’t have enough.  So I went over, handed the boy a baguette, and went to pay but—Poe, I left my wallet at home,” Finn said, wildly. 

 

Poe exhaled through his nose heavily.  “Let me guess.  The boy ran off with the bread.”

 

“Yes, and I tried to explain to the shopkeeper that if I could use his telephone I could have Han or someone bring my wallet and then I could pay him.  But he wouldn’t listen,” Finn whined.  “He started yelling for the police, and when the police came I tried to explain it to them, but they wouldn’t listen either.  They brought me here, and they don’t believe I am who I said I am because I don’t have my papers and--,”

 

“Alright, my love,” Poe cut in.  He adjusted his fingers on Finn’s chin as much as he was able so he could stroke his thumb along Finn’s jawline.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll sort this out.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Poe.”

 

“Don’t apologize, love.  It’s all a misunderstanding.”  Poe flashed a toothy grin at Finn.  “Trust me, in terms of getting arrested, this is nothing.”  Finn gave a wobbly smile at that.  Poe turned to the officer, who was standing behind him, observing the exchange.  “Do you have a copy of last Monday’s newspaper?”

 

The officer blinked.  “Probably.  Why?”

 

“The front page of the society section,” Poe said.  “That should start to clear this up.”

 

The officer shot a skeptical look at Poe before moving back towards his desk, where he kept all of the previous week’s papers out of habit.

 

“I didn’t even think of that,” Finn said, facing lightening up.  “Poe, do you think if we pay the baker everything will be okay?”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Poe muttered, his mind already organizing a plan.

 

“You’ve caught a looker,” came a third voice.  Poe and Finn glanced towards the back of the cell, where the handcuffed woman was leaning against the far wall.  The older woman looked like she was in her forties, but she could also be a hundred and Poe wouldn’t have been surprised; her eyes were old.  She seemed fairly comfortable being in a cell.  She jerked her chin towards Poe.  “Finn here was telling me his fiancé was beautiful.  Thought he was exaggerating, you know.  Like when I say my Charlie’s got a face that could launch a thousand ships.”

 

“Uh, thank you?”  Poe glanced at Finn, who offered a small shrug.  “So what are you in for,” Poe asked, slipping back into prison banter he hadn’t had to use for a while.

 

“Pick-pocketing,” the woman said easily.  “They’ll hold me for a few more hours and then let me go.  Can’t make the charge stick.”

 

Poe nodded, giving the woman’s gray trousers and jacket and polished shoes a once-over.  “What do you actually do?  Run a fast one?”

 

The woman blinked and then tossed her head back and laughed heartily.  “Oh ho!  Finnie, you didn’t tell me your man was a fleecer!”

 

“A what,” Finn asked, bemused.

 

“Retired,” Poe smiled.  “Never lost the read though.  So what’s your game?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t like to say,” the woman gestured around her.  “Given present location, you understand.  Maybe we can go for a drink someday.”

 

“Maybe,” Poe shrugged.  “Like I said, I’m retired.”

 

“Right.  Finnie’s making an honest man out of you.”

 

“Right,” Poe nodded.  There was a commotion, and Poe turned to see the officer from earlier, clutching a newspaper in his hands and another officer.  The new officer thrust his hand forward for Poe to shake.

 

“My apologies.  I’m Chief Plutt.  Officer Roche has just informed me of the circumstances.  I did not realize Grand Duke Fyodor was here.”

 

Poe gave Plutt’s hand a tight squeeze.  “If you had listened to him, you might have realized sooner, officer.  I’m sure there is somewhere we can speak privately.”

 

“Of course,” Plutt nodded jerkily.  Roche unlocked the holding cell’s door and Finn gracefully emerged.  Roche switched keys, and removed Finn’s handcuffs.  “If you will follow me.”

 

Poe took Finn’s hand and guided it to the crook of Poe’s elbow.  He began to lead Finn after Plutt but a shout behind him gave him pause.

 

“Finnie!”  The woman left in the cell had moved to the grate and was giving Finn a serious look.  “Remember what I said.”

 

“I will,” Finn said.  “Thank you, Maz.”

   

Poe looked between the two curiously.  Maz just threw a wink and went back to the bench in the cell.  Poe turned away and guided Finn down a hallway, where Plutt held a door open for them.  Inside was a bare table with four chairs around it.  Poe pulled out one of the chairs for Finn before sitting down next to him.  Plutt took a seat across from the pair.  Roche had not followed them inside.

 

“Now I’m sure we can clear this up shortly,” Plutt began.

 

Finn opened his mouth to agree but Poe subtly placed a hand on Finn’s knee and gave it a brief squeeze.  Poe kept his eyes on Plutt.  “I’m certain you can understand that we want this settled quickly.  And quietly.  It has been deeply embarrassing,” Poe paused for a beat, “for _all_ involved.”

 

Plutt cleared his throat.  “Of course.”  He glanced over at Finn.  “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.  The shopkeeper--,”

 

“Is he here,” Poe interrupted.  “This will be more productive if we can speak directly to him.”

 

“Well,” Plutt said slowly, “he has requested not to be placed in the same room as…”

 

Poe smirked.  “I’m sure he’s embarrassed that he mistakenly had the grand duke arrested.  I would be happy to speak with him privately if that would ease his nerves.”

 

Plutt glanced nervously between Poe and Finn.  “I’m not entirely sure--,”

 

“Was he informed of the misunderstanding,” Poe interrupted, sensing Plutt’s nerves.

 

“He was,” Plutt replied promptly.  Poe narrowed his eyes. 

 

“I see.  In that case there should be no issue with Finn or I meeting with him,” Poe said lightly.  “Of course,” Poe continued, casually, “if—and I’m sure this is not the case—but if the shopkeeper, upon being informed of the mistake, has already dropped all charges and now you, Plutt, are attempting to extract money from us, that would be a different story.”

 

Plutt coughed, and Finn turned wide eyes towards Poe, who remained focused on the chief.

 

“Here’s what is going to happen,” Poe said slowly.  “All record of the grand duke’s arrest will be lost.  Finn and I are going to leave this station, and we will not tell the newspapers of this station’s complete ineptitude and its chief attempting to blackmail a foreign royal.  Understood?”

 

Plutt stayed silent.  Poe waited patiently, giving Finn’s knee another squeeze because he could feel Finn vibrate with nerves.  Finally, Plutt gave a sharp nod.

 

“It’s been a pleasure, Plutt,” Poe said, rising and pulling Finn up with him.  “I sincerely hope we never meet again.”  With that, Poe took Finn from the room.  Finn glanced back at Plutt.  “Don’t bother, Finn,” Poe mumbled, making his way down the hallway.  “I know his type.”

 

“I can’t believe—how did you do that,” Finn sputtered, staring at Poe in open amazement.

 

“Later, Finn,” Poe said lowly, taking Finn’s hand and urging him to move faster.  “Let’s get out of here first.”  Poe nodded at Roche as he passed the front desk and dragged Finn out onto the street.  Finn squinted against the sun.  How long had he been in there?  “Follow me,” Poe began, leading Finn away from the station.

 

“Wait,” Finn pulled Poe the opposite direction.  “We have to go back to the bakery and pay the shopkeeper.”

 

“Finn,” Poe stared.  “Finn, we need to get you home.”

 

“After.”  Finn set off down the street, and Poe followed after him instinctively.  Finn turned left at the corner, and then right after a block.  He stopped in front of a well-kept storefront, with a small basket of baguettes on display out front and a case of croissants and rolls in the window.  Finn turned to Poe.  “Do you mind?  I promise I’ll pay you back once I get home.”

 

“What’s a franc between fiancés,” Poe asked with a shrug, entering the shop.  “Excuse me?  Anyone in?”

 

“Can I help you,” an old man asked, entering the store from behind a curtained doorway in the back.  His eyes fell on Poe and then Finn.  “Oh!  I’m so sorry, sir—er, your highness!”

 

“No, no,” Finn said, walking up to the man.  “I’m very sorry for all the trouble I caused.  This is my fiancé, Poe Dameron,” Finn introduced.  “He has your money for you.”

 

“There’s really no need--,” the old man started.

 

“Please,” Poe interrupted, taking out his wallet, “it’s my pleasure.  Finn won’t let me to take him home until this has been settled.”  Poe smiled.  “One franc, was it?  Here you go, sir.”

 

“Thank you very much,” the old man said dazed. 

 

“Of course.  Now, Finn, if you would be so kind,” Poe said drily, holding the shop door open grandly.  Finn rolled his eyes, but left the shop with a little wave over his shoulder.  Poe took Finn’s hand again and walked to the corner to hail a taxi.

 

“I really am sorry,” Finn muttered.

 

“I don’t know what you have to be sorry for,” Poe replied, raising his arm just to have a taxi continue by.  “Through an honest mistake you got arrested by crooked cops.  You did the right thing by calling me.  You even used the code word,” Poe grinned at Finn, who still looked upset.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“You had to leave work.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Poe shrugged.  “I don’t think you plan on making this a habit, do you?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Finn said firmly.

 

“Then don’t worry about it.”  Poe turned to face Finn fully.  “Really, Finn.  I don’t want you to ever have second thoughts about calling me if you’re in trouble.”

 

“It was just _stupid_ ,” Finn moaned, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation.  Instantly a taxi pulled over next to them.

 

“You can summon taxis too?  I’m the luckiest man alive,” Poe joked, opening the door.  Finn slid into the cab and Poe followed, telling the driver the dowagers’ address.

 

“Wait, can we go to the fencing studio,” Finn asked, grabbing Poe’s arm.  “You still have work to do, right?  Can I keep you company?”

 

Poe narrowed his eyes.  Finn stared back at him with wide eyes.  Poe glanced down at Finn’s hand on his arm and noticed some bruising on the underside of the younger man’s wrist.  Poe inhaled sharply before nodding.  He gave the driver the new address and then pulled Finn against him, running a hand up and down his fiancé’s back.  “You can stay with me for as long as you need,” he whispered.

 

“Thank you,” Finn sighed.  “For everything.”

 

“Of course.”

 

The rest of the taxi ride passed in silence.  Poe hastily paid when they arrived, climbing out and then turning to give Finn a hand.

 

“I’m not injured,” Finn muttered.

 

“I know, Finn.  Just let me have this,” Poe replied, as they made their way inside.  Jess was back at the front desk, and her jaw dropped when the two men walked in.

 

“You’re back.  Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything is fine,” Poe said easily.  “Did you cancel my last lesson?”

 

“Snap told me to,” Jess said, jerking her head exaggeratedly towards the stairs.  “Snap is in his office.  You should go see him.  In his office.”

 

“Why,” Finn asked, glancing towards the stairs.  “Is Snap okay?”

 

“Alright, Jess.  Thank you,” Poe nodded, cottoning on.  Holding Finn’s hand, Poe headed up the stairs and down the hallway to the first office.

 

“What’s going on, Snap,” Poe asked, entering without knocking.  Snap sighed, not surprised in the least when Poe and Finn walked in.

 

“The dowagers are camped out in your office.”

 

“Oh God,” Finn moaned.

 

“ _What_?  You were supposed to wait to hear from me before contacting them,” Poe hissed.

 

“I didn’t contact them,” Snap shot back.  “A daughter of a friend of Leia’s saw Finn get arrested and you know what the Russian expatriate community is like.”

 

“Fyodor Alexander Nicholas Michael Peter Skywalker.”

 

Poe turned to face the dowager emperor who was now standing in the doorway of Snap’s office.  Finn was frozen, staring at the floor, and Poe understood why.  That look of fury and disappointment on Luke’s was one that had made courtiers and officials shake in their boots back in the day.  Behind him Leia had her hands on her hips.

 

“Go to the car, Fyodor,” Luke managed through clenched teeth. 

 

Finn squeezed Poe’s had quickly before releasing it.  “I’ll call you later,” he whispered before leaving.  Leia put an arm around Finn’s waist as they walked away.

 

“You should know, sir,” Poe said quietly, “that it was a misunderstanding and it has already been taken care of.”

 

“He shouldn’t have put himself in a position for there to be such a misunderstanding,” Luke ground out.

 

“Your son is going to make mistakes.  He’s not actually an angel.”  Poe met Luke’s glare with a neutral expression.  “He’s also twenty now.  I know you lost ten years with him, but at some point you have to accept he’s grown up.”

 

“I thank you for your parental advice, which have been honed from years of experience,” Luke said, voice dripping in irony.  “Despite what you imagine, I am aware my son is too old to be locked in his room without supper.  I will speak to him when we are home.”

 

Luke turned to leave but Poe’s voice stopped him.  “If it helps, Han wanted him to get a tattoo but Finn refused.”

 

Creaking a small smile, Luke shook his head.  “My angel does have some sense.  Thank you, Dameron, for helping him today.”

 

“I always will.”

 

With that, Luke left and Poe turned to Snap with a helpless shrug.

 

“Don’t look at me.  You’re the one who thought getting involved with Skywalkers was a good idea.”

 

“No,” Poe said, “I thought marrying Finn was a good idea.  The others never factored into the decision.”

 

“So, how about we close the studio, get drunk, and hear why Finn was in prison,” Jess suggested, popping her head in.

 

“There was more royalty in here than I ever thought I would see in my life,” Bastian commented, wandering into Snap’s office.

 

“He wasn’t in prison, firstly,” Poe said, jumping to Finn’s defense.

 

“I think I need a drink before we get into this,” Snap laughed, clapping Poe on the shoulder.

 

“When you marry him, what title do you get,” Iolo asked, leaning against the doorframe.

 

“What?  I don’t know.  Does it matter?”

 

“Drinks first,” Snap said firmly.  “Get your hats and coats, lady and gentlemen.  We’ll head to Harry’s.”         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos from the last chapter! :D  
> 


	5. Chapter 4: June

“Papa, I got my results back and--,” Finn paused, looking around his father’s study where Leia, Han, and Luke were seated by the portrait windows.  “Sorry.  I can come back later.”

 

“That’s not necessary, angel,” Luke smiled, holding out a hand, signaling Finn to approach.  “You have the results of your exams?”

 

“Passed them all with distinction,” Finn said proudly, perching on the arm of Luke’s chair.  “Even political philosophy, although I think Bernard took pity on me for that one.”

 

“Well done,” Luke praised mildly, glancing over the exam papers Finn handed to him.

 

“Finally done with classes, huh,” Han asked.

 

“Until September,” Finn nodded.  “But I was talking with a couple of professors and they want me to assist their research over the summer.  They mostly need me to translate from Russian into French, but one of them—Professor Arnaud—is interested in the Byzantium idea I had--,”

 

“The one about the Patriarch,” Leia interrupted.

 

“Yeah.  Anyway he wants to work with me on it.  He said it has potential,” Finn beamed.

 

“Excellent, angel,” Leia smiled, patting him gently on the knee.  “I hope that will not take up all of your time.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “It will be as if I were still taking classes.  I can do it.”

 

“Yes, but there is the wedding to plan, my dear,” Leia pressed.  “We wanted to wait until your classes were done so you wouldn’t be distracted.”

 

“Oh.”  Finn blinked and glanced down at his father, who had a slightly pained look on his face.  “I can do both.  What do we need to do for the wedding?”

 

“Now you’ve done it,” Han muttered.

 

“Quite a bit, in fact,” Leia answered, reaching over to pinch Han’s arm.  “We need to find a church and an appropriate officiant.  Additionally, there is the guest list, the decorations, the food, the drinks, the colors, the flowers--,”

 

“Not to mention the legal aspect,” Luke added.  “We will have to discuss how you would like to handle the titles.”

 

“And then there is the honeymoon to plan,” Leia continued.  “As well as where you plan to live after the wedding.  And, of course, the dowry.”

 

“Close your mouth, kid,” Han laughed.  “You’ll catch flies.”

 

Finn snapped his mouth shut but continued to look between his father and aunt in alarm.  “I don’t know where to begin.  Should I ask Poe what—what?  Why are you looking at me like that,” he asked Leia, who shifted in her seat and coughed delicately.

 

“It may be better, dear, not to bother Poe with the little details,” she said gently.

 

“It’s his wedding too,” Finn said quickly.

 

“Yes, but his job keeps him rather busy, doesn’t it?  He’s had to miss family dinners the past two weeks, remember?”

 

“Well, yes,” Finn conceded.  He was well aware Poe had been busy.  He hadn’t seen Poe for more than an hour at a time since the baguette mishap.  “But he would still want to _know_.”

 

“Trust me, Finn,” Han smiled, “Poe doesn’t give a damn what the forks look like or if the napkins match the tablecloths.  He’ll thank you for taking care of it.”

 

Finn looked to his father, who shrugged.  “I don’t know what goes through Dameron’s mind.  But if I were him I’d want to avoid the minutia as much as possible.”

 

“Well…” Finn bit his bottom lip, “if he asks me about it, I’ll tell him.  But I guess I can take care of it.”  He smiled tightly.  “What do we need to do first?”

 

_**One week later**_

 

“Well, well, well!  Long time, no see, your highness.”

 

“Very funny, Jess,” Finn scowled half-heartedly.  He leaned against the front desk of the studio, hands in his trouser pockets.

 

“Not since your stint in prison, I think,” Jess teased.  She held out a hand expectantly and Finn passed over a bar of dark chocolate.  “Thank you.  If you’re here to see Poe, he’s booked until eight tonight.  He’ll probably stay later to help Iolo with the books though,” she said casually, tearing into the chocolate.

 

“Oh.  Alright.”  Finn glanced down at his shoes in the hopes of hiding his disappointment.  He had managed to finish all the translations Professor Peron had wanted for the week early, and he had a couple hours free before he was to meet Rey.  And then he was meeting Aunt Leia to look at linen options for the wedding, and after that he had an evening of planning, Papa might have mentioned talking to him about—something.  Anyway, he had hoped he could see Poe for a bit today; they hadn’t been able to spend much time together in the past few weeks.

 

“You know summer is the busiest season for us,” Jess carried on.  “All of the rich kids come back from university and need to occupy their time.  So their parents send them here.  And Poe is our best dueler; he’s in high demand.”

 

“That’s good.  He—he likes the challenge,” Finn nodded vaguely.

 

Jess eyes narrowed.  “Obviously, look who he’s engaged to.”  Finn’s head snapped up, eyes wide with apprehension, and Jess backtracked quickly.  “I mean—you know, I can check his schedule.”  Jess shifted the day’s mail out of her way to look at the large calendar that took up the entire desk.  “He has an hour free next Monday.  How about I book you?”

 

“Book me?  For a session?”  Finn bit his lip.  “Poe won’t fence with me after the last time.”

 

“No, I’ll book you for lunch,” Jess smiled.  “Really, I’m just going to put your name down for 12:30 next Monday so no one else can be scheduled for that time.  He’s been skipping lunch breaks all week; trust me, he’ll thank us for this.”

 

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” Finn muttered.  “But thank you.  That’ll be great.  Uh, what does his Saturday look like?”

 

“Chaos,” Jess replied frankly.

 

“Okay, Monday it is.”  Finn would have to spend a few hours at the library on Sunday if he was going to finish the assignment for Lombard.  He could do it.  “Can I leave a note for him?”

 

“Sure.”  Jess passed over a small notepad and a pencil.  Finn considered it for a moment before hastily scribbling a quick couple of sentences, ripping the sheet out of the pad, folding it in half, and passing it back to Jess.

 

“Thank you.  I’ll see you on Monday,” he said with a quick smile.

 

“See you then.”  Jess watched Finn leave with a small frown before she slipped out from the desk and hurried up the stairs and down to Studio Three, which she had already begun calling Poe’s Studio because he was always there with an appointment. 

 

“En garde,” Poe called from where he stood just off the boards, observing two clients face off.  He was watching the bout so intently he didn’t notice Jess until she tugged on his arm.  “Hey, Jess.  Next appointment here?  I thought I had ten more minutes.”

 

“Finn stopped by.  He left you a note.” She thrust it into his gloved hand.  “You’re having lunch with him on Monday.”

 

“Sounds good.” Poe glanced back at the bout.  “Gerard, that’s bad form and you know it.  Reset.”  He turned back to Jess but she had already left.  He shrugged to himself and unfolded the note.

 

_Poe,_

_I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.  Jess says you’re fully booked._

_Congratulations!  Anyway, I hope you’re well._

_I’m scheduled to have lunch with you on Monday.  (Isn’t that odd to say?)_

_With love,_

_FFS_

Poe chuckled quietly, then slipped the note into his pocket and redirected his focus to the bout.

 

*****

 

“Finn, you are a life saver!”

 

“Uh, what?” 

 

“Come in, come in,” Karé stepped aside to allow Finn to enter the small townhouse.  “I’m desperate, Finn.  Snap is coming home for dinner and I have nothing.  I just got back from London—the wind on the Channel were deplorable—and, of course, tonight is the cook’s night off.”

 

“Lead the way,” Finn laughed, already shrugging out of his suit jacket.  Karé leaned down to plant a quick kiss before showing Finn back into the small kitchen at the rear of the house.  “Let’s see what we have to work with,” he said, opening the larder.

 

“Anything you find is yours,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning her hip against the counter.  “I told Snap when I married him he wasn’t getting a chef.  Give me ledgers over lentils any day.”

 

“I could teach you, if you want,” Finn offered, taking a cleaned and plucked chicken from the larder and placing it on the counter.  He moved to the cupboard and found potatoes, lemons, rosemary left to dry, and garlic.  “It’s not that difficult.”

 

“It would only waste both our times,” Karé waved a hand in dismissal.  “Anyway, what brings you here?  Did you sense my culinary despair from across town?”

 

“Not exactly,” Finn smiled, undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.  “I wanted to talk to you because—you and Snap are the only married couple I know.”  He went around the kitchen, collecting olive oil, salt, pepper, and a knife.

 

“Really?  Well, times are changing,” she sighed.  “You sure you want advice from me?  I’m a bit of a happily married disaster at the moment,” she said, gesturing around the kitchen.

 

“This isn’t a disaster,” Finn reassured with a smile, pulling a large covered cooking pot out of another cupboard and bringing it back to his work station.  “This is hardly even an issue.  Roasted chicken with garlic and lemon and potatoes.  Sound good?”

 

“Sounds amazing,” Karé breathed, moving to stand beside Finn as he started slicing the potatoes into rounds.  “So what do you want to know about being married?  It’s mostly like this, honestly.”

 

“Do you—I know you travel a lot and Snap is at the studio everyday—do you have to schedule to see each other?”  Finn bit his lip, drizzling some oil across the bottom of the pot before laying the potato rounds down, sprinkling salt and pepper over the top.

 

“Sometimes.  We try to arrange to have time off at the same time.”  Karé watched as Finn started to peel the garlic.  “But that’s not how it is for everyone.  Some couples can see each other every night for dinner.  That’s not how Snap and I are.”

 

“I don’t think that’s how Poe and I will be either,” Finn mumbled, laying the knife flat side down over three cloves of garlic and smacking his other hand down to smash the garlic.

 

“Does that bother you?”

 

“Maybe.  I’m not sure.  I know I didn’t like Jess booking me to have lunch with Poe.  It felt…like I could have been anyone.”

 

Finn kept his eyes on the peeled garlic cloves as he minced it, refusing to look at Karé even as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Have you talked to Poe about this?”

 

“Haven’t had the chance.  I haven’t seen him,” he said in a forced casual manner, turning out of her grasp to get a small mixing bowl.

 

“You need to talk to him, Finn.  He probably doesn’t know there’s a problem,” Karé said gently.  “Trust me, having a job can take over your life.”

 

“That’s the other thing,” Finn replied, pouring some olive oil into the bowl, adding the minced garlic, and mixing it together with a fork.  He took the rosemary and started plucking the leaves from the steam.  “I don’t have a job.  Not one that pays me.  I don’t know when I’ll get one, or what it will be.”

 

“Finn, you’re in school.”

 

“I know, but it’s not the same, is it?”  He scoped up the rosemary leaves and added it to the oil and garlic.  “I don’t think I should be asking Poe to work less, if I’m not working at all.”  He rolled a lemon between his hands, again not meeting Karé’s eyes.

 

“So what are you going do,” she asked, crossing her arms.  “Wait until he notices, or until you can’t take it any longer?”

 

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m here,” Finn whined, slicing the lemon in half and squeezing the juice into the bowl, picking out the seeds.  He then took the chicken and seasoned the cavity with salt and pepper before putting the lemon halves inside.  He sliced the second lemon in half and added them to the cavity.

 

“Well, here’s my advice, then: talk to him as soon as possible.  You don’t have to tell him to work less.  But the two of you need to find an arrangement that works for both of you, because this is clearly not working for you.”  Karé draped an arm around Finn’s waist as he placed the chicken in the pot on top of the potatoes, seasoned the outside of the bird with salt and pepper, and the poured the oil mixture over the top.

 

“So, an hour before Snap is due home, heat the oven—medium high should do it—and put the whole pot in, uncovered.  It should be done in an hour.  You can check by poking the thigh here with a knife—if the juice runs clear then it’s done.  Let it sit on the counter for ten minutes before serving,” Finn said quickly, turning to wash his hands.

 

“Finn--,”

 

“I heard you,” Finn sighed, bracing himself against the sink, shoulders drooping.  “I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Good.  Thank you for making dinner; I’m taking all the credit,” Karé teased gently.

 

“He won’t believe you,” Finn joked back, cracking a small smile.

 

“Probably not.  Do you have anywhere to be?  We could have a drink, if you want.”

 

“What time is it,” Finn asked, looking over to the grandmother clock in the corner of the kitchen.  “I’d love to but I have to run.  I’m meeting Rey at the Louvre in twenty.”

 

*****

 

“You’re late.”

 

“You could have left without me,” Finn shot back, sliding into the passenger seat of Rey’s two-seater.  “I was with Karé.”

 

“How is she,” Rey asked, merging into traffic.  “Did she just get back?”

 

“This afternoon.  She’s doing well.  I made their dinner.”

 

“Of course you did,” Rey laughed.  “Other than that, how are you doing?”

 

“You saw me two days ago,” Finn pointed out.  Rey shot him a sharp look as she made a sudden turn.  “I’m fine.  Translating is boring.  Wedding planning is bizarre.”

 

“I can’t believe you called me for invitation advice.”

 

“You work in art!”

 

“Illuminated manuscripts are a little different than wedding invitations, Finn.”

 

“I know that,” Finn rolled his eyes.  “They’re all looking the same to me at this point.  And the guest list is still growing.  I think Aunt Leia wants to invite every Russian in a twenty-mile radius.”

 

“She probably does.  This is a big occasion, you know.”  Rey saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye and asked, “How’s Poe handling it?”

 

“Great,” Finn said quickly.  “Like a dream.”

 

Rey hummed unconvinced.  She knew perfectly well Poe hadn’t been at a single planning meeting.  She also knew Finn hadn’t seen Poe in over two weeks.  But if Finn didn’t want to talk about it she would leave it be…for now.

 

“Where are you taking me, anyway,” Finn asked, looking at the buildings pass outside his window.  “I don’t think I know this area.”

 

“You wouldn’t.  I told you about the stolen manuscripts.”  Finn nodded and Rey continued, “Well, I have a lead that whoever is stealing them is trying to sell them.  I was told that down here there is a bar where those sort of deals go down.  So--,”

 

“Are you sure we should be going there?  We are a bit recognizable,” Finn hinted.

 

“Well, you are, at least.  Do you know the New York Times printed a full page story about you and Poe?  My contact at Le Monde told me they are going to reprint it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Americans love a story about royalty,” Rey shrugged.

 

“Why is it being reprinted here?”

 

“The French love a love story,” Rey grinned.  Finn buried his head in his hands with a groan.  “Don’t worry about it.  I hear it’s a good story, a bit melodramatic but overall good.”

 

“I lived it, Rey; I know how it was.”  Finn dropped his hands.  “Back to the matter at hand, are you sure you and I walking into a seedy bar is a good idea?”

 

“We aren’t walking in there.  We’re going to stake it out.”

 

“And what does that mean?”

 

“It’s American slang,” Rey said proudly.  “It means we’re going to park across the street from the bar and watch for anyone who might be trying to sell or buy illuminated manuscripts.”

 

Finn had a lot of questions about that; first and foremost, what does someone interested in illuminated manuscripts look like?  Instead, he settled back against the cushioned bench of the car.  “Sounds like a plan.  I need to be home by seven for dinner and linen discussions.”

 

“Alright, Cinderella,” Rey scoffed.

 

“Rey, this is the farthest from Cinderella I’ve ever felt.”

 

_**Four days later**_

 

“Hey, buddy!  I’m sorry I’m late; my last appointment got away from me,” Poe bounded in his office, placing a quick kiss on Finn’s forehead before moving to set his rapier aside and unbutton his fencing jacket.  “What did you bring for lunch?  I feel like we haven’t done this in ages.”

 

“Croque monsieur sandwiches,” Finn answered, omitting the fact that he had made them and that it had been three weeks since they had had lunch together.

 

“Sounds delicious,” Poe flashed a quick smile, settling into the seat behind his desk and unwrapping the sandwich in front of him.  “Now then, how are you, my love?”

 

“I’m—doing well,” Finn said slowly.  “How about you?”

 

“Can’t complain,” Poe replied cheerfully.  “Been busy around here.  If I get any more clients I’ll have to start turning them away.”

 

“Really,” Finn asked hopefully.

 

“Well, it’s either that or double book myself.  I’ve already done that to myself today,” Poe frowned guiltily, taking a bite of his lunch.  Finn did the same, waiting for Poe to continue.  “Jess didn’t actually tell me when we were going to have lunch, so I booked a short appointment at 1300.”

 

“Oh,” Finn glanced at his watch.  It was already 12:45. “I can—we could reschedule?”

 

“No, we have some time,” Poe reassured.  “What have you been up to lately?  Enjoying the nice weather?”

 

“When I can,” Finn answered vaguely, wracking his brain for something Poe would find interesting.  “Rey is acting like a detective.”

 

“Is she?  That sounds fun,” Poe snuck a glance at his own watch; Finn noticed.  “Did you see that article about us?  Bastian and Jess pasted my entire office door with copies of it this morning.  Took Snap and I an hour to peel them all off.”

 

“That sounds like them,” Finn smiled slightly.  “I didn’t really like the article.”

 

“Really?  It didn’t seem that bad to me,” Poe shrugged.  “The author seems to have some funny ideas about how our early interactions went.  I don’t recall sheltering you from the snow with my coat, while my fingers turned blue.”

 

“Never happened,” Finn shook his head.  “The author made me sound like I was some helpless kid and you and Han had to do everything for me,” Finn glared down at his lap.

 

Poe blinked.  “I must not have read it that closely, my love.  If it helps, I’m well aware that you were saving my life the entire time,” he winked.  Finn gave a half-hearted smile at that.  “Don’t let it get to you.  Everyone who matters knows the truth.”  Poe glanced back at his watch and grimaced.  “Love, I’m sorry--,”

 

“It’s alright, I understand,” Finn interrupted, wrapping his sandwich back up and standing.  “Maybe—can I see you soon?”

 

“My schedule is on the desk,” Poe said, jerking his chin at as he stood to put the jacket back on.  “Any free space is yours.  Just pencil your name in.  What are you up to for the rest of the day?”

 

“Aunt Leia wants to show me a church for the wedding,” Finn muttered, distractedly, moving around the desk to see the schedule.

 

“Great!”  Poe beamed.  “Pick a good one, love.  You have all my trust.  I’ll see you soon.”

 

*****

                 

“How do you like it,” Leia asked in hushed tones. 

 

Finn looked around, taking in the gold leaf walls and solemn renderings of saints, the dark wood floors and the large white candles with flickering flames.  He turned back to his aunt.  “It looks…like a church.”

 

Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes barely.  “Imagine it with flowers and more candles.  You want to have white flowers, correct?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Finn said quickly.

 

“That will brighten the whole nave,” Leia decreed.  She took Finn by the arm and led him back into the vestibule.  “I think it will be perfect.  It can easily accommodate all of your guests, the bishop is a dear friend of your father and I, and it can be heated.”

 

“Say no more, I’m convinced,” Finn laughed, exiting the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral.  “I love it, Aunt Leia.  Thank you.”

 

“Of course, dear.  Now, if that’s settled, I think we can head home and start discussing the silver for the reception.  Of course we have some, but not enough for the number of guests we are expecting.  I will have someone bring over a few designs for you to choose from.  Keep in mind how you want your reception to be.”

 

“Alright,” Finn replied distracted.  A child was lurking under the stairs of the cathedral, waving his arm as though to beckon Finn closer.  “Aunt Leia, can I meet you at home in a bit?”  Leia frowned and he hurried on, “It’s a nice day.  I thought I might walk around a little.  Between the planning and researching at the library I feel like I haven’t been outside in weeks,” he finished with a small, sad smile he hoped would work.

 

Leia sighed.  “Don’t be late for dinner, dear.  You have to make a decision about the invitations.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Finn leaned down to place a quick kiss on her cheek.  “Thank you again.  The church is perfect.”

 

Leia waved him away, making her way to her car, where her driver opened the door for her.  Finn turned back to the cathedral, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, and casually strolling towards the boy, who had moved to the alley beside the church.  As Finn moved closer the boy began walking again, glancing back to assure that Finn was following him.  Three turns later the boy stopped and Finn approached slowly.

 

“Do you need me for something?”

 

The boy scratched the back of his head vigorously, staring at the ground.  “I owe you.”

 

Finn knelt down to glimpse the boy’s face.  “Ah.  You were the boy at the bakery.”  Finn smiled but the boy remained wary.  “I’m not mad at you.  You don’t owe me anything.  In all honesty it was my fiancé that purchased your baguette.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d get arrested,” the boy mumbled.

 

“Neither did I.  But it’s been taken care of now.”  Finn tilted his head.  “What’s your name?”

 

“…Luc.”

 

“Well, Luc, my name is Finn.”  Finn held out his hand.  Luc stared at it before casting an incredulous look at Finn.

 

“I’m a thief.”

 

“And I want to shake your hand,” Finn said firmly.  “Not long ago I was in your position, you know?  I know what it’s like to be hungry enough to do anything for a crumb.”

 

“You don’t look it.”

 

“Fancy clothes can cover a lot, Luc,” Finn sighed.  “Are you alone?”

 

“Got my sisters,” Luc shrugged.  “And Maz looks out for us.  She told me to find you, repay my debt.  That’s the honorable thing, she said.”

 

“Maz?  You know Maz?”

 

“We all know Maz.”

 

“‘We’?”  Finn squinted.  “Street kids?”

 

“Yeah, and the rest.  If you operate in Paris, you know Maz.”

 

Finn laughed.  “I see.  Well, I’m glad she’s looking out for you.”  Finn held out his hand again and this time Luc took it.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luc.”

 

“You too, Finn,” Luc grinned crookedly.  “Maz said you were a good sort.  She said you wouldn’t be mad.”

 

“Maz is a smart woman.”  Finn sat back on his heels, thinking.  “How committed are you to being a thief, Luc?”

 

“You have something in mind,” Luc asked, crossing his arms.

 

“I have an idea.  It would be a job.  It shouldn’t take up much of your time, but you’d have some income.”

 

“Working for you,” Luc’s face lit up.

 

“No, for a friend of mine.  She’s ‘a good sort’ too, I promise,” Finn nodded slowly.  “Can you read?”

 

“Of course,” Luc said, affronted.

 

“And I’ll bet you know your way around Paris pretty well, right?”

 

“Better than anyone,” Luc puffed out his chest.

 

“Excellent,” Finn praised.  “Why don’t I take you to meet her?  If you like her, then you’d have a job.  If you don’t, you can consider your debt paid in full.”

 

Luc pulled on his right earlobe thoughtfully.  “Okay, Finn.  You’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

_**Eight days later**_

 

“When was the last time you saw Finn?”

 

“What?”  Poe glanced up from his madeleine cake to look across the café table at Rey.  “I saw him—recently.  Why?”

 

“You saw him last Monday for lunch in your office,” Rey said promptly.

 

“If you knew that, why did you ask,” Poe grumbled, taking a gulp of his coffee.

 

“Because I wanted to see if you knew, which you didn’t.  You haven’t been to a Sunday dinner this entire month.”

 

“Summer is a busy time at the studio,” Poe defended himself.  “I have more appointments, which, incidentally, is a good thing.”

 

“How was Finn, when you saw him over a week ago,” Rey asked, sweetly, taking a bite of her bichon au citron.

 

Poe scowled.  “I don’t know, tell me how my fiancé was when I saw him last week.”

 

“Don’t be petulant,” Rey frowned.  “He’s been sad, distant.  I saw him the other day, and he was…distracted.”

 

Poe waited for her to continue but when she didn’t he shook his head.  “I don’t follow, Rey.  Tell me what you’re getting at before I have to get back to the studio.”

 

“I think Finn is stressed and lonely and misses you.  I think you have been putting your work ahead of your fiancé and I think Finn has noticed.  Frankly I think everyone but you has noticed,” Rey finished under her breath.

 

Poe’s jaw dropped.  He had been busy, sure, but he hadn’t been _that_ busy.  He had stopped bothering attempting to make family dinners during the week, because his last appointment was never over before nine.  Sunday dinners may have gotten lost in his schedule, but he remembered he had called Finn to let him know when he couldn’t make it.  Lunch dates had to be cut short in order for Poe to get back to the office, and evening dates were hardly worth the effort what with Finn’s curfew still heartily enforced by Luke.  Still, Poe was positive it wasn’t as bad as Rey was making it sound.  Finn had never said anything.

 

“Miss Rey!”  Poe watched in surprise as a small boy ran up to their table outside of the café.  The boy held out a folded piece of stationary to Rey, panting slightly.  “The gentleman sends his regards.  He can meet with you at your convenience.  Also, I caught a glimpse and he’s got it.  I’m positive.”

 

“Thank you, Luc,” Rey grinned, taking the note.  “That will be all for today.  If you can be at my home at nine tomorrow morning, I will have another little job for you.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Luc nodded.  Rey passed him a ten franc note, and Luc ran off down the street.

 

“Who was that,” Poe asked in shock.

 

“My new colleague, Luc,” Rey answered vaguely, reading over the note she had been given.  “Finn found him for me.  He’s been indispensable to me already.”

 

“What do you need a kid for?”

 

“Officially, he is my page,” Rey looked up and smiled smugly.  “Unofficially, I am tracking down an individual who has been stealing illuminated manuscripts over the past few months.  Every time I get close to purchasing one for the Louvre it is stolen.  I need someone who is unobtrusive, knows his way around Paris, and is familiar with the criminal network in Paris.  Luc fits all of the criteria; additionally, he is devoted to Finn.  I feel I can trust anyone who trusts Finn.”

 

“Wait wait wait,” Poe held up a hand.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“I know,” Rey said, drawing herself up.  “If you had been around recently you would have heard all of this before.”

 

“I’ve been working!  It’s not as if I disappeared for a month.”

 

“Except that’s exactly what you’ve done,” Rey sighed.  “Finn is at the library most days until six,” she said, standing, “and after that he’s at home, planning your wedding, which I assume is still happening.”

 

“Right,” Poe stood, leaving payment for the coffee and pastry as he moved to Rey.  “I’ll make sure to see him, okay?”

 

“I’m sure it’s none of my business,” Rey said haughtily, “but I think it would be for the best.”

 

Poe walked briskly down the street to the studio.

 

“Madame Humbert is in Studio Three,” Jess informed him as he entered.

 

“Thanks.”  Poe hurried up the steps and went straight into Snap’s office.  “I need two hours off tomorrow,” he announced, planting his hands on Snap’s desk and leaning forward.  “I don’t care when, but I need two hours.”

 

“Why,” Snap asked, looking up from his papers.

 

“Personal reasons.”

 

“Oh, you finally caught on,” Snap nodded, unconcerned by the alarmed look on Poe’s face.  “I’ll have Bastian cover your appointment with Mr. Vaillant.  Take your lunch break and have three hours.  Tell Finn I say hello and thanks for dinner.  Also, I got my wedding invitation yesterday.  Very nice.”

 

“Wedding invitation?”

 

“Yeah.  Karé was very impressed.  It’s engraved so deep it nearly gave me a papercut,” Snap grinned but the smile slowly diminished as Poe just stared at him.  “You don’t know about the invitations.”

 

“There seems to be a lot I don’t know about right now.”

 

*****

 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Finn Skywalker,” Poe whispered to the librarian.

 

“Second floor, fifth stack, table by the window,” the librarian whispered back.  “Where he always is.”

 

“Thank you,” Poe nodded, making his way to the stairs.  He had a plan.  He would take Finn to lunch, ask him how he’s been, listen to the response, apologize, repeat parts two through four as necessary.  Poe would not blame Finn for not telling him that he was missed.  He would not—

 

Poe paused, taking in the scene before him.  Finn was asleep, head pillowed on his arms rested on top of a small stack of books.  Sheets of paper and large portfolios were spread across the desk while sunlight filtered through the tall windows behind him.  Poe approached quietly, glancing over the pages he could see.  They looked like they were translations, all in Finn’s neat handwriting.  Hundreds of pages of translations.  Poe frowned, glancing back at his sleeping fiancé.  He reached out and placed a hand on the back of Finn’s head.

 

“Hey, my love.  Time to wake up.”

 

“Whu,” Finn blinked slowly, whipping a drip of drool from the corner of his mouth.  He turned to apologize to whoever had caught him napping in the stacks.  Then he stared.  “Poe?  What are you--,”

 

“I thought I would come and see how my beautiful fiancé is doing,” Poe murmured cheerfully.  “Come on, let’s take a break.”

 

“Uh, okay,” Finn agreed with a bit of surprise.  “Okay, let me just—sort this out.”

 

“Is all this for one project,” Poe asked, picking up a loose sheet and squinting at it.

 

“Huh?  No, it’s—that’s for,” Finn snatched the paper out of Poe’s grasp, “uh, Peron.  These are for Lombard.  Then somewhere there’s some for Lecoq.  I feel like I’ve been translating for months.”

 

“It looks like you have been,” Poe muttered, as Finn stacked and sorted his translations.  “What do you get out of this?”

 

“I don’t know,” Finn replied, standing up and stretching.  “They asked me to help them so I said I would.  It’s not awful, but it’s slow work.”

 

“Slow?”  Poe gestured at the piles of papers.

 

“Yeah, I could get twice this much research done if I had the time,” Finn mumbled with a shrug.  “Where are we going?  How much time do you have?”

 

“Uh, I want to surprise you,” Poe improvised, changing his plans.  He looped Finn’s arm through his and began to wind his way back through the stacks.  “We have three whole hours, if you’ll believe it.  What luxury, right?”

 

“Really?  Did work go back to normal,” Finn asked hopefully, flinching against the bright sunlight when they emerged.

 

“Well, no.  But I managed to make time,” Poe said easily.  “Especially after I got this in the mail,” he continued, pulling a thick card from his inside jacket pocket and handing it over.

 

“Who sent you this?  I didn’t—you don’t need an invitation to your own wedding,” Finn sputtered.

 

“Thank you, Finn, I’m glad you agree with me on that.”  Poe took the invitation back and pocketed it again.  “I got it yesterday.  I suspect Rey sent it as a joke.”

 

“It’s not very funny,” Finn grumbled. 

 

“No, not really.  But, I think her point was made,” Poe admitted grudgingly.  “Would you mind calling us a cab, my love?  Taxis ignore me.”

 

Finn looked at Poe curiously but made his way to the curb and threw his arm up.  Two taxis flashed their lights in response and pulled alongside.  Poe hummed his gratitude, opening the door of the first cab for Finn to slide in.

 

“Sacré Coeur, Montmartre,” Poe told the driver as he climbed in next to his fiancé.  The driver nodded in response.

 

“We’re going to church,” Finn asked in surprise.  “We’re not even Catholic.”

 

“Trust me, Finn.”  Poe draped an arm around Finn’s shoulders and pulled him snug against his side.  “So, what’s this I hear about you cooking dinner for Snap and Karé?  I’m a bit jealous, you know.”

 

“I was just helping,” Finn shrugged, resting his head against Poe’s clavicle, relaxing against his fiancé’s weight.  “She doesn’t know how to cook.”

 

“So she called you and, like a cherub from the culinary heavens, you arrived and made a four course dinner?”

 

“No,” Finn chuckled.  “They didn’t even get dessert.”

 

“Damn right.  Some things should be sacred between fiancés.”

 

“Like dessert?”

 

“Exactly like dessert,” Poe agreed, placing a kiss on the top of Finn’s head.  “What did you want to talk to Karé about?”

 

“You think you’re so clever,” Finn huffed.

 

“It doesn’t take a genius, love,” Poe smiled softly.  “Was it about me?”

 

Finn was quiet and Poe turned to look out the window, waiting.  He ran a hand across Finn’s back soothingly.

 

“I didn’t—it wasn’t really about you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I—we hadn’t seen each other in a while.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry that work has been this busy lately.”

 

“It wasn’t like this last year,” Finn mumbled into Poe’s chest.

 

“I was new last year.  Still had to make a name for myself,” Poe replied, lips against Finn’s hair.

 

“Will it always be like this from now on?”

 

Poe sighed.  “It will settle down after the summer.  But no, I’ll try to make sure it’s not like this from now on.  I shouldn’t find out that we’re sending out wedding invitations in my mail.  I shouldn’t need Rey to tell me you’re lonely.  I shouldn’t find you asleep in a library with no idea what you’re doing there.  And you—you shouldn’t feel like I’m not available.”

 

“I know your work is important.”

 

“It is.  I enjoy it.  But there’s something else in my life that’s more important, if I remember correctly,” Poe joked.  Finn looked up and Poe cupped the side of his fiancé’s face.  “We’ll figure something out.  With all the lunch hours I’ve been skipping, I’d bet I have enough hours saved to take some time off.  What do you think?”

 

“I could be free,” Finn smirked.

 

“If you can pencil me in.”

 

“You’ll have to check with my secretary.”

 

“Who’s that, Luc?”

 

“You know about Luc,” Finn asked shocked.

 

“I caught a glimpse of him yesterday.  Rey dragged me off to scold me,” Poe smiled.  “Am I going to hear that story anytime soon?”

 

“If you’re good,” Finn whispered, placing a hand on Poe’s knee to balance himself as he stretched up to kiss Poe on the lips.

 

“I’ll have you know I can be very good,” Poe breathed against Finn’s cheek after breaking the kiss.

 

“You’ll have to be.”

 

“Why’s that,” Poe huffed, playing along, turning to catch Finn’s lips again but Finn pulled back.

 

“Because we’re at Sacré Coeur.”  Finn slid across Poe to get out of the taxi as it came to a stop.  Poe barely suppressed a moan as he quickly paid the driver and got out.  “Why did you want to come here?”

 

“I’ve heard the views from the top are amazing,” Poe replied, taking Finn’s hand and starting up the stone steps.

 

“Really?  Better than the Eiffel Tower?”

 

“I don’t know, but we can find out,” Poe laughed.

 

“Race you!”

 

“No fair!  Get back here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who commented or left kudos. They're amazing :)  
> To anyone who expected this to go up yesterday, so did I. But the wifi fairies weren't on my side this time. Still got it up this week though!


	6. Chapter 5: July

“Okay.  Stay calm, stay calm.”

 

“I am calm.”

 

“Poe,” Finn turned wide eyes to his fiancé, “you do _not_ look calm.”

 

Poe’s own over-bright eyes glanced at Finn, as he braced one hand against the roof of Leia’s car, his other hand pressed hard against the dashboard, one leg tight against the passenger door, and the other leg planted on the floor.  “I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly exuding confidence right now either, pal.”

 

Finn’s hands were clenched around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning more and more white by the second.  “You’re making me nervous!  When you’re nervous, I’m nervous.”

 

“Look, let’s forget about this.  Driving isn’t that important.  Not important at all.  We can live long and happy lives and--,”

 

“And I’ll have to ask you to drive me everywhere,” Finn interrupted.  “No, thank you.  I love you, but I need to be able to do this.  So either you can teach me how or I’ll ask someone else.  Rey said--,”

 

“Over my dead body is Rey teaching you how to drive,” Poe bit out.  “She drives like a maniac.”

 

“This might be the pot calling the kettle--,”

 

“My love,” Poe turned completely to face him, “have I ever put you in danger?”

 

Finn inhaled deeply then exhaled through his nose.  “No.  No, you haven’t.”

 

“And I’m not about to start now,” Poe said with a level of certainty that had Finn nodding in agreement without a thought.  “If this is how you want to spend the first free day we’ve had since April, then this is what we’re going to do.  Now, ease your foot off the brake slowly.”

 

Finn spared another glance at Poe, who no longer looked like he was two seconds from leaping from the vehicle should the need arise.  A steely, determined edge had come over him; Finn knew what that meant—neither he nor Poe were leaving this car until Finn could drive.  Finn took another deep breath, stretched his fingers, and then lessened the pressure he had on brake pedal.

 

The car started to roll forward.

 

“Is that supposed to happen?”

 

“Yes, Finn, that’s how cars work.  Now your right foot—place it on the gas pedal.  Keep your eyes on the road.  You’re going to press—lightly—on the accelerator, and—brake!”

 

“What!”  Finn slammed his right foot on the brake instantly and the car came to a halt.  “Poe!  I didn’t even--,”

 

“Okay, it’s okay,” Poe said, in a very calm voice.  “That was my fault.  I should have told you about steering.”

 

“We weren’t even moving yet!”

 

“We were moving right off the road, Finn.”  Poe rolled his shoulders back.  “Whenever the car is in motion, you have to be steering.  Now, this is a flat, straight stretch of road.  We haven’t seen a car in the past ten minutes.  So, as far as steering goes, right now all you have to do is keep the car in the center of the road.  So we’re going to try that again, okay?  Ease off the brake, steer, ease on the gas.”

 

Finn did as instructed, this time directing the car to the middle of the dirt road Poe had chosen for the endeavor.  The car slowly made its way down the road.  Finn flashed a grin towards Poe, who wasn’t moving except for the flail of his nostrils as he took steady breaths.

 

“Alright, very good.  Now, we’re going to move into second gear.  Press a bit more on the gas—there you go.  You’re going to feel the car resist.  Like it can’t go any faster.  Do you feel that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then try going a little faster.”

 

“Okay, there it is,” Finn answered, casting a quick glance down at the pedals which felt like they were vibrating slightly under his feet.

 

“Eyes on the road, buddy,” Poe said quickly, throwing out an arm but not taking the wheel.  Finn’s eyes snapped up again and he steered the car back to the center.  “Good.  Now, put your left foot on the clutch.  Press on the clutch while—at the same time—you take the stick and pull it down.”

 

“Got it,” Finn chewed on the inside of his cheek.  “Can I go faster?”

 

“Not much.  You can press the accelerator a bit more.  Remember the speedometer: keep the needle around twenty-five.”

 

“Okay,” Finn nodded, looking between the road and the speedometer rapidly.

 

“Relax, you’re doing great.  You won’t be able to go much above 30 kilometers per hour while in second gear,” Poe explained.  “Now, there’s a turn in the road coming up.  Don’t panic.”

 

“I’m not panicking,” Finn said, his voice slightly shrill.

 

“Ease up on the accelerator.  Nice and easy.  Move your right foot over to the brake.  Don’t stop, just slow down a bit.  Good, good.  Turn with the road, Finn.  There you go.  That was great, love,” Poe laughed, clapping his hands.  “It’s straight again now.  You can put on a bit more speed.”

 

Finn felt every muscle in his torso relax.  He could do this; he could—oh, no.

 

“So, there’s another car now.  Don’t panic,” Poe reassured.  “Steer over to the right side of the road; there’s enough room for both of us.”

 

“Should I stop?”

 

“No, no.  Breathe.  Now, keep your speed around twenty.  Focus on the horizon.  Aim for your left wheels to be lined up with the center of the horizon.”

 

“They’re going to hit us!”

 

“They won’t.  Keep steady,” Poe reached over and placed his left hand over Finn’s right, angling the steering wheel slightly to the right.  Finn kept his foot on the accelerator, although every instinct he had was telling him to pull off the road and brake.  The other car was approaching fast.

 

“Poe--,”

 

“You can do this, my love.  Keep breathing.  Here—and there it goes.  Was that so bad,” Poe asked gently, smiling and leaning back to his side of the bench.

 

“That was terrifying,” Finn gasped, staring straight ahead.  “Can I stop now?”

 

“No,” Poe said without a hint of pity.  “You can’t stop just because it got tricky.”

 

Finn heaved a groan.  “Was that you or Han speaking?”

 

“Both.  Now, stay on the right side of the road.  Usually you don’t get to take up the whole road, love.”

 

“Alright.”  Finn focused on the center of the road ahead, relaxing enough to press a bit more on the accelerator.

 

“Finn,” Poe drew out, a note of warning in his voice, “don’t get carried away.  Ease up.”

 

“But there’s a third gear!”

 

“Finn, slow down.”

 

Finn sighed, but relaxed the pressure he had on the gas pedal.

 

“Are you pouting,” Poe asked incredulously.  “Buddy--,”

 

“It’s fine.  I’ll spend my entire life never going above twenty-five kilometers per hour.  That’s fine.”  Finn stretched his neck slightly, keeping his eyes on the road.  “At this rate, how long will take us to get Versailles?”

 

“About two hours, unless we meet another car and you stop,” Poe nettled back.  “Are we going to Versailles, my love?”

 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that--,”

 

“Hold on, buddy.  You’ve got a car coming up behind you,” Poe said, glancing behind.  Finn nearly turned completely around to look for himself, and Poe let out what he would later vehemently deny was a shriek.  “Hell’s bells, mirrors!”

 

“Sorry!”  Finn twisted around quickly, steering the car back onto the road.  He then looked up in the rearview mirror.  The car behind him was approaching fast.  “What do I do?  Poe, what do I--,”

 

“Let him pass you.  He’s going to pass you on the left.  Maintain your current speed,” Poe instructed, breathing heavy.

 

As the car passed Finn and Poe, Finn risked a glance over to his left.  There was a man and a woman in the other car; the woman took a hand off the steering wheel to wave at Finn.  Finn managed a small wave back before Poe made a strangled whimper and Finn put both hands back on the wheel.

 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Finn said cheerfully.

 

“Speak for yourself,” Poe muttered, rubbing the spot above his heart.  “What did I say about mirrors?”

 

“They’re there for a reason,” Finn intoned, frowning.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“Not a problem.  Everyone makes mistakes.  No harm done,” Poe said quickly, seemingly to reassure himself more than Finn.  He took another moment to calm his heart rate before asking, “You were saying something about Versailles, love.”

 

“Right.  Well, Bastille Day is coming up--,”

 

“And you want to go to Versailles?”  Poe sent a skeptical look his fiancé’s way.  “You sure you—a deposed royal—want to spend the holiday marking the overthrow of a monarchy at that monarchy’s palace?”

 

Finn shifted slightly in his seat, not looking away from the road.  “We wouldn’t go to the actual palace.  There’s a town.”

 

“If you want to, I’ll go,” Poe said simply.

 

“We could go somewhere else,” Finn added.  “But, Bastille Day is on a Thursday and I heard Snap was thinking about bridging the gap and closing the studio on Friday too.  So I was thinking we could, maybe, go away for those days?”

 

“You sure your father will allow that,” Poe asked, scratching his neck.  “We had to fight tooth and nail for Nice, remember?”

 

“That’s the thing,” Finn answered, a smile growing on his face.  “Papa, Leia, and Han are all going out of town for those two days.  They’ve been invited to Lyon by some friends.  Papa said I could go with them, but I thought—and he said he was going to give the staff those two days off as well.  Han said he would take Baby even.  Actually,” Finn continued, “Han was pretty firm about taking Baby.  I think he wants to show her off.”

 

“Han is a strange man,” Poe said with a shake of his head.  “So what you’re telling me is I have no excuse not to take you away for two days next week?”  Poe reached over and gave Finn’s knee a tight squeeze.  “We’ll go to Versailles.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Poe nodded definitively.  “First though, do you want to try driving home?”

 

“Poe, please take the wheel.”

 

“Alright, let’s go over parking.”

 

*****

 

“Thank you again, Snap,” Finn said, as Poe placed his and Finn’s suitcases in the trunk of Snap’s car.  Finn leaned heavily against the passenger door, eyes heavy and stomach turning uncomfortably.  He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night between Luke giving him a last minute lecture on the Importance of Propriety in the Modern Age and the shallow pounding headache that had set in around midnight.  But he would rather cut off his hands then cancel the trip; Poe hadn’t been free for two straight days in months.

 

“Don’t mention it.  You’re doing me a favor,” Snap replied, waving his hand.  “If you take the car, I have an excuse not to visit Karé’s mother tomorrow.”

 

“My mother is a saint,” Karé interjected, coming around from behind Snap and draping an arm around Snap’s shoulders.

 

“Her mother calls me ‘that Russian clown’ behind my back,” Snap informed Poe drily.

 

“She says it with love and affection.”

 

“Is that right?  She could work on her intonation.”

 

Poe had doubled over laughing, clutching his sides.  Finn hid his own smile tired behind his hands, staring at Snap and Karé.

 

“You see what you have to look forward to, Finn,” she asked, gesturing to her husband.

 

“Papa doesn’t call Poe a clown,” Finn quickly defended, opening his sore eyes wide.

 

“I’m sure he uses equally glowing terms,” Poe joked.

 

“Not anymore!”

 

“Oh-ho!  What did he used to call Poe,” Snap asked excitedly.

 

“Enough of that,” Poe inserted himself between the Wexley-Kuns and Finn.  “If we want to avoid traffic getting out of the city, we should leave now.”  Turning to Finn he asked, “Do you want to drive for a bit?”

 

“No, thank you,” Finn mumbled.  Poe smiled sympathetically and planted a quick kiss on Finn’s forehead.

 

“Have a safe trip,” Karé called as Finn climbed into the passenger seat.  Poe waved and went around to the driver’s side.

 

“We should start looking for a car of our own,” Finn informed Poe as Poe pulled away from the curb in front of Snap’s house and set off down the street.  Finn wrapped his arms around his stomach as it gave an unpleasant lurch.

 

“Getting a little tired of borrowing our friends’,” Poe asked lightly.  “I’ve been putting some money aside for a car, love.”

 

“I could help with that,” Finn offered hopefully.

 

Poe raised an eyebrow.  “Oh yes?  Something you need to tell me?”

 

“I get some money; I can start saving it.”

 

Poe’s face cleared as he put the pieces together.  “You’re talking about the pocket money you get from Luke?  Love, that’s for you to—get lunch, pay for a taxi, buy bread for homeless kids, and whatever else you do during the week.”

 

“I know but--,”

 

“Finn, how about you—I’ll tell you what,” Poe said as inspiration struck, “the car will be your wedding present.  From me to you.”

 

“So…should I buy you a car?”

 

“No, we can probably manage with the one.”  Poe saw Finn frowning in thought out of the corner of his eye.  “Or.  You could hint to your father that we would appreciate a nice Peugeot--,”

 

“You want to ask Papa for a car,” Finn asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

 

“No, I have this terrible pride, you know.  Asking your father for anything is my last resort.  But, if it would make you feel better, you can ask for both of us.”

 

Finn hummed noncommittally, turning slightly to look out the window as Poe drove through the outskirts of Paris.  Poe glanced again at his fiancé in concern.  He cleared his throat and asked,

 

“Are you excited to get out of Paris for a little?  We haven’t had the opportunity to get away in months.”

 

“Yeah.  I’m more looking forward to spending two days with you,” Finn replied honestly.

 

“Me too, love,” Poe said softly.  Frankly, Poe still felt like he was making up for lost time with Finn.  He had cut back on weekend appointments; he hadn’t missed a Sunday dinner since he and Finn had spoken in the cab; and he had a standing lunch date with Finn every Wednesday.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than it had been.

 

“Poe,” Finn started, and then he fell silent.  The pounding spiked suddenly against his temples, and Finn closed his eyes against the rolling scenery and bright sunlight.

 

“Yes, Finn,” Poe prompted.

 

“I was at the library yesterday, and a couple of my classmates were talking…”  Finn frowned, trying to find the right words.  “They said a lot of people were mad.  They said there might be riots today.”

 

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Poe said with a shrug.  “Public holidays are often used to vent frustrations.”

 

“They said I shouldn’t show my face.  That the French don’t have any love for monarchs with blood on their hands.”

 

“They sound like charming people,” Poe muttered through clenched teeth, turning on the road that led through the fields beyond eastern Paris.

 

“That’s not—it’s not like that, right,” Finn asked, twisting his fingers together, keeping his eyes clenched shut.

 

“You’ve lived in Paris for over a year, Finn.  Sure, there might be some who think—but no, you wouldn’t be in danger if we had stayed in Paris,” Poe stated.

 

“But I don’t.  Have blood on my hands,” Finn clarified.

 

“I think your lovely classmates,” Poe said drily, “were speaking more generally.  They didn’t mean you.  They were probably talking about Skywalkers writ large.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, the coup was a family affair,” Poe explained absently, his focus on the road.  “That first night over a thousand nobles and loyalists were killed.  Some would say that had steps been taken, all that bloodshed could have been spared.  The coup had nothing to do with us; it was another Skywalker squabble, and we were dragged into it.”

 

“…we?”

 

“Ordinary folks,” Poe clarified.  “The First Order coup followed by the communist take-over… what did that have to do with us?  One dictator is like another.  Because four people couldn’t sit down and talk like adults, Russia had to have ten years of chaos and fighting and--,”

 

“Four people?”

 

“Well, I suppose you were only eight.  Three people, then,” Poe amended.

 

“…do you believe that?”

 

Poe felt all the blood drain from his face.  “I—Finn, let me—that didn’t come out right.”

 

“You think I killed--,”

 

“ _No_.  God, no, Finn.  You didn’t kill anyone.  I didn’t--,”

 

“But I was responsible?  They died because of me?”

 

“That’s not what I meant!  Damn it, just listen to me!”

 

“You said because Papa, Leia, and Ben couldn’t--,”

 

“Be quiet!”  Poe gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white.  He breathed heavily through his nose, glaring out at the fields.  Silence reigned in the car.

 

“Poe, stop the car,” Finn whispered, strained.

 

“Look, I appreciate the dramatic flair, but I’m not going to stop this car,” Poe said, rolling his eyes.  “What are you going to do, walk back to Paris?”

 

“Poe, please.”

 

Poe glanced over at his fiancé, who was hunched over, arms wrapped around his lower chest.  He couldn’t see Finn’s face.  Sighing, feeling that he was going to regret this, Poe directed the car to the side of the road and parked.  Finn shot out the passenger door, dropping to his knees and retched.

 

“Damn it,” Poe hissed, jumping out of the car and hurrying around to Finn, kneeling down next to him and starting to rub small circles across his back.  “Okay, love.  It’s okay, deep breaths.”  Poe winced sympathetically as Finn gagged, sounding pained.  “You know,” he teased softly, “if you’re going to be sick every time we argue, this will be an uncomfortable marriage for you.”

 

“It means you shouldn’t argue with me,” Finn rasped back, head bowed between his shoulders.

 

“That too.”  Poe leaned over to kiss the back of Finn’s neck softly.  “How are you feeling, my love?”

 

“Not that great,” Finn whimpered.  Poe passed his handkerchief over to Finn, who whipped his mouth.  “Sorry.”

 

“For not telling me you were sick?”  Poe sat back on his heels, easing Finn off his hands and back against Poe’s chest.  “How long?”

 

“Last night,” Finn muttered, closing his eyes and letting Poe support him.  “I didn’t want to cancel the trip.”

 

“Alright, my love.”  Poe looked over his fiancé’s ashen face and slightly glossy eyes.  “I think it would be better to take you home.  Being sick in a hotel sounds awful.”

 

“Don’t want to be alone,” Finn mumbled. 

 

“Well, I wasn’t going to leave you in an empty house, Finn,” Poe said with a half-smile.  “I’m not heartless.  We’ll figure something out.”  Poe gathered Finn closer to him before moving to stand, bringing Finn with him.  “Let’s get you in the backseat.  You can lie down.  Try and get some sleep.”

 

“Don’t want to sleep,” Finn complained but he did curl up as soon as Poe guided him down into the backseat.

 

“Alright, then don’t sleep,” Poe chuckled, watching as Finn brought his knees to his chest and pillowed his head on his arm.  Poe shut the door as softly as he could and then moved back to the driver’s seat and starting the car again and maneuvering it back towards Paris.

 

“I don’t like fighting,” Finn called softly over the purr of the motor.

 

“It’s terrible,” Poe agreed lightly.

 

“Should we talk about it?”

 

“Yes, but maybe not when there’s a good chance that you might throw up.”

 

“I don’t think I will,” Finn murmured helpfully.

 

Poe snorted.  “Okay.”  He glanced back in the rearview mirror.  Finn was watching him.  “Okay, I’m sorry I told you to be quiet.  That was rude.”

 

“Thanks.”  Finn sighed.  This is how it went whenever he and Poe had fight: they started off small.  “I’m sorry I interrupted you and didn’t let you talk.”

 

“Thank you, Finn,” Poe nodded.  He exhaled heavily through his nose.  “I do not think you’re responsible for the coup.  I do not think you have blood on your hands.  I was ready to die for you that night--,” Poe stopped himself.  Finn had never mentioned what he remembered of the night of the coup regarding Poe, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was worth pressing the point.  “—as a member of the Imperial Guard,” he finished.

 

“I know, I know.”  Finn curled himself a bit closer.  “I shouldn’t have made it sound like that.  But—you were talking as if that was how you felt, and I was already…”

 

“Maybe Bastille Day was a bad day to get into politics,” Poe conceded.  He glanced back in the rearview to see Finn nod.  “I can see both sides: I’m not a noble, but I pledged my alliance to the protection of the royal family and I believe in it.  Frankly, I would rather have your aunt ruling Russia than either Kylo or the communists.  But if there was a fourth option—I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

 

Finn thought it over, chewing his bottom lip.  “I understand that.  I know I don’t want to rule Russia.”

 

“Well, that’s probably for the best,” Poe smiled.  “I’m ready to do a lot for you, my love, but leading a revolution might be--,”

 

“You wouldn’t have time; you’re already fully booked at the studio,” Finn laughed.

 

“That’s right,” Poe said with a quick wink in the mirror.

 

*****

   

“So let me get this straight,” Snap’s voice growled over the telephone, “you take Finn away for a romantic trip, and you couldn’t go one goddamn hour without accusing your fiancé of inciting a _massacre_?”

 

“That sums it up,” Poe answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “He’s also sick, and I brought him home.”

 

“Have you lost your mind?”

 

“We’ve talked about it, Snap.  I’m calling to ask if you know anything about--,”

 

“You accused your sick fiancé--,”

 

“I didn’t accuse him of anything, and I didn’t know he was sick,” Poe snapped.  “I don’t know why I called you.”

 

“Karé and I will catch a taxi and be over soon,” Snap said quickly before the call was disconnected. 

 

Poe withdrew the earpiece from his face, looking at it incredulously before hanging it up.

 

“Well, Finn’s not throwing up anymore,” Rey called, coming down the stairs.  “He’s wrapped up in five blankets and still says he’s cold.  I think that means he has a fever.”

 

“Snap and Karé are on their way,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “Maybe they’ll know what to do.”

 

“Maybe we should call the dowagers?”  Rey laughed as Poe’s eyes widened comically.  “Or not.  Do you have a plan?”

 

“Mom made me soup when I was sick,” Poe said, inspiration striking.

 

Rey nodded sagely.  “Do you know how to make soup?”

 

“We can figure it out.”  Poe started off down the hall and then taking the stairs down to the kitchen.  Rey followed behind him.  “Look around for a cookbook.  There should be one of those around,” Poe said, bluffing his way forward, shrugging out of his suit jacket.

 

“When Finn cooks he doesn’t use a book,” Rey pointed out, starting to open cabinet doors.

 

“Finn is a miracle,” Poe replied distractedly, pulling a big pot out of the third cabinet he checked.  “Found a pot.”

 

“I’ve found five pots, four skillets, and eight platters,” Rey threw back.  “No books though.”  Rey straightened and turned around, hands on her hip.  “Wait.  On that shelf!”

 

“I see it.”  Poe reached up but couldn’t get his fingers on the book.  “Damn.”

 

“Stay there,” Rey said from behind him.

 

“Why—oof!”  Poe fell against the shelves as Rey launched herself against his back, climbing up to his shoulders and grabbing the book before dropping back to the ground.  “Was that necessary?”

 

“It was fun,” Rey shrugged, flipping through the book.  “There’s a leek and potato soup recipe.”

 

“What does a leek look like,” Poe asked, looking at the recipe over her shoulder.

 

“I don’t know.  But it’s something we can cut into fourths and rinse.”  Rey thought about this.  “I think that could refer to anything.”

 

“Let’s see what’s in the pantry,” Poe said, turning away to do so.

 

“What are you doing?”  Finn shuffled into the kitchen, with a thick quilt wrapped around his shoulders and over his head.

 

“We are trying to decide if we have leeks,” Rey frowned.  “You’re supposed to stay in bed.”

 

“I missed you,” Finn smiled innocently, scuffling over to Poe who wrapped his arms around him.  “It was boring up there, alone.”

 

“You’re not alone, my love,” Poe whispered against Finn’s forehead.  Poe bent down to get his arms around Finn’s upper thighs and lift Finn off the ground.  Finn giggled, kicking his legs a little.  Poe laughed, carrying the younger man over to the counter and setting Finn down.  “Now you can sit there and watch Rey and I attempt to make you soup.”  

 

“I could help you,” Finn offered, turning his head to cough into his blanketed shoulder.

 

“No, my love.  You can supervise.”

 

Finn drew his legs up, resting his chin on his knees.  His head still ached and his eyes felt heavy and dry, but he couldn’t help but smile as he watched Poe and Rey hurry around the kitchen, tossing ingredients back and forth, and bicker ( _“Do I really need to peel four potatoes?” “Yes, Poe, it says so right here!” … “Why are we crying?” “Onions do that, Rey.”_ )

 

“What is going on here,” Snap asked, walking into the kitchen with a bag in each hand.

 

“Took you long enough,” Poe commented, looking up from the pot he was filling with water.

 

“We made a couple stops,” Karé smiled, holding up her own bag.  “Ham, cheese, butter, and bread.  I can’t cook, but I can make a sandwich!”  She handed the bag off to Rey, who pulled out two blocks of cheese with excitement.  “How are you feeling, Finn?”

 

Finn hummed softly, eyes closed and half-asleep.

 

“He’s burning up,” Poe answered, leaning against the counter next to Finn.  “Do you know anything about fevers?”

 

“You have to sweat them out,” Snap said, putting the loaf of bread, slab of ham, and log of butter out on the counter.  “I called Han--,”

 

“Why,” Poe moaned.

 

“—and he said they would come back tomorrow,” Snap finished.  “He also said to tell you that you’re an idiot and--,”

 

“Wait, you told Han about our argument,” Poe asked, gaping.  “ _Why_?”

 

“I thought it was important--,”

 

“For Han and the dowagers to know that Finn and I had a fight?  A fight that’s resolved?”

 

“Dragon.”

 

Everyone turned to look at Finn, who had slumped against Poe, eyes blinking lazily.

 

“Are you okay, love,” Poe wrapped his arm around his fiancé’s waist.

 

“Dragon.  You’re my dragon.”  Finn tried to curl around Poe, but he was too high up.  He frowned, poking an arm out from his blanket to reach for Poe.

 

Poe snorted softly, taking Finn’s hand and wrapping it around his shoulder and then taking Finn into his arms.  “We’ve been together for over a year, and you never gave me a pet name.”

 

“Just don’t say them out loud,” Finn mumbled, eyes sliding close again.  “Dragon, beautiful, starlight.”

 

Poe blinked rapidly.  He glanced up at the others in the kitchen, watching the pair.  “Someone said something about sandwiches?”

 

*****

 

“Poe.”

 

Poe’s eyes shot open and he quickly sat up.  He looked around, rubbing a fist over his eyes.  The nest of blankets and pillows he, Rey, and Karé had made the night before across the floor of the parlor was still intact.  Finn was a ball of quilts at the far end, fast asleep.  Rey was next to him, leaning up on her elbow, looking over at him.  Karé and Snap were asleep next to Poe, having held firm to their self-ordained position as chaperones and had made sure Poe was as far from Finn as was possible ( _“Really, Snap?  I thank you for_ _your misguided belief that I cannot contain my baser instincts at the sight of my fiancé asleep, but given that he’s currently ill, I think his purity is safe for another night!”  “Don’t be dramatic, Poe.  This is what propriety calls for, and you know it.”_ ).  Poe finally turned to look to his left.

 

“Han.  Dowagers,” Poe rasped, pushing himself to his feet.  “I would like to say that the sleeping arrangements were approved by Lieutenant Wexley.”

 

“Thank you for bringing my son home,” Luke said in a tight refrained voice.  “And if I ever hear that you are accusing my son of--,”

 

“With all due respect, sir,” Poe interrupted lowly, “you do not know what you’re talking about.  Finn and I had an argument; we have resolved it.  I am engaged to your son.  We will have disagreements.  You don’t have to fight his battles for him.”

 

Luke’s neutral expression narrowed into a glare.  “You can show yourself out, Dameron.”

 

Poe glared back, turning away and making his way over to Finn.  He knelt down next to Finn and Rey.  “You’ll look out for him,” he asked Rey softly.

 

“Of course.  You can take my car.”

 

Poe nodded.  He laid a hand on the top of Finn’s head, which was all the was showing through the blankets.  “My love.”

 

“Poe?”

 

“I have to leave now, love.  Your father is back, and he’ll take care of you.”

 

Finn reached out sleepily, and Poe leaned in for an embrace.  “Do you have to go?”

 

“Yes, Finn.  You can call me if you need anything.  I’ll be here for Sunday dinner, no matter what.”

 

Finn nodded, sinking back down into the blankets.  Poe stood and made his way to the sofa that had been pushed against the wall.  He methodically put his shoes on and then his tie.  He pulled his jacket on in silence before turning back.  Luke had moved to kneel next to Finn and was whispering to his son softly.  Leia was speaking with Rey.  Han stood by the parlor door, waiting for Poe.

 

“I’ll talk to Luke,” Han said.

 

“I don’t need that fight right now,” Poe replied.  “I’ll be here Sunday night.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”  Han clapped a hand on Poe’s shoulder.  “You’re growing up.”

 

“God forbid,” Poe laughed before leaving the parlor.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the amazing comments for the last chapter, and for the kudos which make me smile!


	7. Chapter 6: August, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late updates the past few weeks. I've been on the move and editing on the fly. But I hope you enjoy the latest!

“Why are you and Poe angry at each other?”

 

Luke lowered himself into the leather armchair in his study, gesturing for his son to follow suit.  Finn did so, leaning back and crossing his ankles.

 

“That is not how a gentleman sits, angel,” Luke corrected mildly.

 

Finn considered sprawling further to make a point but decided that would be counterproductive.  He straightened, tucking his elbows against his sides and planting his feet on the floor.  He raised an eyebrow at his father, who nodded his approval before taking a sip from his glass of cognac.

 

“Papa,” Finn pressed.

 

“I’m sure I don’t know why your fiancé is upset,” Luke answered, unconcerned and looking at his glass.

 

“He’s ‘my fiancé’ now?  I thought you and he were getting along.”  Finn leaned forward, noting Luke’s scowl at that statement.  “You even helped with the announcement.”

 

“That was for you, my angel.”

 

“But you and Poe were talking at least,” Finn countered.  “Now he comes to dinner and you act as though there’s an empty chair there instead of Poe!”

 

“It would be more productive, angel, to ask Mr. Dameron what is going through his head.  I cannot fathom what goes on in there,” Luke finished with a slight growl.

 

“You fought with him, didn’t you?”

 

“I resent that presumption, Fyodor.”

 

“He says he didn’t do anything,” Finn said.

 

“That does not surprise me,” Luke replied with a dark chuckle.

 

Finn sighed, shoulders slumping.  This was not going the way he had hoped.  “I love Poe, Papa.”

 

Luke nodded but said nothing.

 

“Papa, I feel like the only thing stopping you from laughing at me is your manners.”

 

“I would never laugh at your feelings, angel.”

 

Finn frowned, eyes narrowing.  “Poe loves me too, Papa.”

 

“That…I’m sure you would know best,” Luke said delicately.  He watched Finn bite his lip in concern.  “My angel, perhaps we should discuss your marriage.”

 

“I feel like that’s all we ever discuss,” Finn muttered.  “Aunt Leia might be two questions away from strangling me with an embroidered napkin.  Why are there so many shades of white?”

 

Luke smiled at that, reaching out to pat his son’s knee sympathetically.  “That I do not know, angel.  But if you would like I can speak to Leia.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “It’s alright.  I suppose someone has to make the decisions, and Poe’s still busy at the studio.”

 

“Yes, well.”  Luke coughed and continued, “But those questions regard your wedding.  I’m speaking about your marriage.”

 

Finn tilted his head.  “What about my marriage?”

 

Luke heaved a sigh.  “I’m not sure you fully understand what is involved in a marriage, angel.  It’s—there are aspects which--,”

 

“Papa,” Finn reached out and took Luke’s hand, “I appreciate your concern, but if you mention my virtue one more time I might scream.”

 

Luke felt his face flush.  “That is one concern, but that was not what I was trying to say.”

 

“Oh, thank God.”

 

“Marriage is permanent,” Luke blurted out.

 

Finn smiled.  “I know, Papa.”

 

“But I will always be here,” Luke said seriously, looking Finn straight in the eyes.  “You will never be alone, my angel.”

 

“Okay,” Finn drew out, glancing down at down at his hand clasped in Luke’s.  “And I’ll have Poe too.”

 

Luke exhaled heavily.  “I want you to remember that, even after you’re married, you will always have your family behind you.  Should anything happen.”

 

“Alright, Papa,” Finn said, confused.

 

“Swear to me, Fyodor.  Swear to me that if you ever need anything, if anything should happen that makes you uncomfortable, you will come to me.”

 

Finn stared.  “I don’t understand.”

 

“Fyodor.”  Luke leaned forward, taking Finn’s other hand and giving it a tight squeeze.  “If there’s ever something that you can’t go to Mr. Dameron about, I want you to come to me.  My door is always open.”

 

“I know that, Papa,” Finn nodded.  “Alright.  I swear, if I ever need something and I can’t go to Poe, I’ll come here.”

 

Luke sagged in relief.  He knew his son didn’t fully comprehend what he was saying, but he prayed his angel will remember that promise should the need arise.  “Thank you, my angel.”

 

Finn felt slightly uncomfortable but he didn’t understand why.  “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, Papa?”

 

Luke had a great many things he wanted to discuss with his son, but he noticed the bags under his eyes and the nervous manner he was chewing on his lip and relented.  “That will be all for now, angel.  We can speak more tomorrow night.”

 

“Poe will be coming to dinner tomorrow,” Finn hedged.  Luke looked surprised at that and Finn added, “He’s trying to make more weeknight dinners now.”

 

“I see.”  Luke schooled his face into a neutral expression.  “We will speak after Mr. Dameron leaves.”

 

_**Four days later**_

 

“Pssst!  Mr. Finn!”

 

“Luc,” Finn grinned, moving into the alleyway where the boy was standing.  “How are you?  Did Rey send you to get me?”

 

“I’m good, and no.”  Luc motioned for Finn to follow him further into the alley.  Finn glanced behind for a moment; he should be getting back to the library.  He was nearly done with Lecoq’s assignments, and then he could start working on his Byzantine project in earnest.  But he could spare a couple of minutes.  He strolled after Luc, following him around a corner without a worry.  Luc then turned to face him, holding a sheet of paper out.  “Maz wants to see you.”

 

“Really?”  Finn hadn’t heard from Maz since the day they had met in the police station.  He took the note and read:

 

_Finnie,_

_Go with Luc._

_Maz_

 

“Well, she gets right to the point, doesn’t she,” Finn joked, pocketing the note.  “Alright, lead the way.”

 

“Follow me,” Luc waved and starting off at a fast pace. 

 

Finn quickly lost track of the turns they made.  He followed the boy over two fences, hiding against the walls at every corner as Luc checked around the corners.  He knew they were heading towards the Left Bank, as the buildings grew more and more shabby.  When Luc came to a stop against a black painted door Finn estimated they had been walking for over fifteen minutes.  Luc knocked five times in quick succession, and then a peephole appeared in the center of the door.

 

“Takodana,” Luc whispered.  The peephole disappeared and the door swung open.  Luc strolled in, hands in his pocket, and Finn followed cautiously.

 

It was a low-lit bar, smoke hanging around the ceiling, where only four lights illuminated the room.  Over at the bar sat Maz, observing the few other occupants.  Somewhere a record player was cooing Ava Smith.  Luc disappeared into the dark and Finn made his way over to Maz.

 

“Found your way, Finnie,” Maz asked cheerfully in a low voice.

 

“Luc has a great sense of direction,” Finn replied casually.

 

“Can I get you a drink?”

 

“No, thank you,” Finn smiled softly.  “Anything I can do for you, Maz?”

 

“I wanted to thank you for what you did for Luc,” Maz answered, waving at the stool next to her.  Finn perched on it cautiously as it rocked on the uneven floorboards.

 

“You don’t have to thank me.  I’d do the same for anyone—everyone if I could.”

 

“I know,” Maz sighed with a tight smile.  “Well, I’ve already offered my help if you ever need it, even though you’ve seem to forgotten.”

 

“I remember,” Finn chuckled.  “Despite first impressions I’m rarely arrested.”

 

“Whenever you’re in trouble.”

 

“Yes, Maz,” Finn said easily.  “I will.”

 

“Well, if you won’t let me thank you, at least accept my little gift,” Maz continued, reaching over the bar and putting a tall, narrow bottle between her and Finn on the bar.  Finn frowned, taking the bottle and turning it in his hands.

 

“I thought it was impossible to get Russian vodka in France,” Finn muttered.  “The communists?”

 

“Not impossible, Finnie.  Just a few extra hoops to jump through.”  Maz grinned.  “My associate and I are working on becoming the sole importers of it.  Got hung up on the paperwork but I think we’re going to have a breakthrough on that front soon.”

 

Finn nodded absently, reading the label.  “Thank you, Maz, but I really don’t drink much.”

 

“Finnie, I won’t take no for an answer.  Give it to your handsome specimen of a fiancé if you want,” Maz said with a wave of her hand.

 

Finn thought it over.  “I could do that.  Alright, thanks.”

 

“Of course.  Now, do you have time for a bit of a chat or do you have somewhere to be?”

 

Glancing down at his watch Finn decided the morning was pretty much wasted at this point.  “I’m having lunch with Poe, but until then I’m free.”

 

***** 

 

“Vodka.”

 

“Yes, Russian vodka.”

 

“You’re giving me Russian vodka.”

 

Finn frowned.  “Well, not if you don’t want it.  Maz gave it to me but I don’t drink so I thought I’d give it to you.”

 

Poe picked up the bottle, running his thumb along the edge of the label.  The corner turned up almost immediately.  Ah.  “No, no, this is great.”  Poe flashed a toothy grin at his fiancé.  “I was just surprised.  I haven’t had this is awhile.”

 

“Well, it’s all yours,” Finn said, still suspicious at Poe’s initial reaction.

 

“So you saw Maz today.  How is she doing,” Poe asked, leaning back at his desk and taking a gulp of his lukewarm coffee.

 

“Fine.  She wanted to thank me for helping Luc.”

 

“Rey’s kid?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, that’s nice of her.  Were you able to get any of that research you wanted to do done?”

 

“Not yet,” Finn sighed, picking at his baguette.  “Still have those translations to finish.  But I can get them done this afternoon.”  If he was able to get them done by four when Aunt Leia wanted to meet him to go over the menu cards for the wedding reception, but Finn left that unsaid.

 

“You have the least relaxing summer holiday I’ve ever heard of,” Poe said, shaking his head.  “If you ever want to take a break for a little, I can set you up with a session here.  Bastian would be a good match for you.”

 

Finn snorted.  “You’re just scared to face me yourself.”

 

“I am.  Last time--,”

 

“Last time I got distracted,” Finn rolled his eyes.  “You would have never gotten that hit in if Jess hadn’t--,”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Poe said quickly, trying to block the image of his blade sliding against Finn’s exposed neck.  If he hadn’t been using a practice rapier…

 

“No, it doesn’t, because despite what you think you didn’t almost kill me.”  Finn leaned forward, looking Poe dead in the eyes.  “It doesn’t matter.  I’m fine.  I didn’t even bleed.  Because you took every precaution to make sure no matter what neither of us would get hurt.  So you can stop looking at me like I’m two seconds from collapsing in a heap and come over here and kiss me.”

 

Poe blinked.  “Well, if you’re going to order me, your highness,” he said cheekily, crossing around his desk and coming to stand over the younger man.  He placed his hands on Finn’s cheeks, drawing down slowly, smirking at the flash of excitement in Finn’s eyes.

 

“Madame Merle is in Studio Three,” Jess’s voice called with a sharp knock on Poe’s office door.

 

Poe’s forehead dropped against Finn’s with a groan.

 

“Her timing is impeccable,” Finn said lightly.

 

“Forget it,” Poe growled, stooping further to cover Finn’s lips with his, with a bit more force than he had previously intended.  Finn’s arms came around Poe’s neck, his tongue flicking out to brush Poe’s bottom lip.  Poe groaned, lips parting.

 

“Honestly, Madame Merle is in Studio Three,” Jess hollered.

 

“Thanks, Jess,” Finn yelled back, pulling away.  “I think you have to take care of that.”

 

“I’ll take care of something,” Poe grunted, turning away to button his fencing jacket.

 

“Will I see you for dinner tonight?”

 

“Uh, yes.  If anything comes up, I’ll call you, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Finn planted a quick kiss on Poe’s cheek before leaving the office, opening the door to reveal Jess standing there with her fist raised.  “See you later, Jess.”

 

“Bye!”  Jess watched Finn walk away before turning back and taking a step back at Poe’s glare.  “What?”

 

*****

 

“Well, that went well.”

 

“Poe, how long are you planning on antagonizing Luke,” Han asked mildly.  “It’s hilarious, but I don’t think Finn is enjoying it as much as you are.”

 

“He’d enjoy it less if I followed his father’s lead,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “I’ve had people who owed me money look at me more than Luke has the last couple of weeks.”

 

“Luke is up to something,” Han muttered, shifting to stand in front of Poe and block him from the open parlor door where Leia, Luke, and Finn were still sitting.  “I don’t know what it is, but he’s been keeping Finn up most nights—to talk.”

 

“Thanks for the warning,” Poe said quietly back, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Finn hasn’t mentioned anything.  It could be nothing.”

 

“Whatever it is he isn’t talking to Leia about it,” Han replied with a slight shake of his head.  “If it was about the wedding Leia would be informed.”

 

“Damn,” Poe breathed under his breath.  “Alright.  I’ll talk to Finn.  Can you keep an ear out around here?”

 

“I have been, and this is all I have.  I swear, this has court intrigue all over it,” Han shot the front door a look and Poe and he began to walk slowly towards it.  “Be careful.  Finn never—he wouldn’t suspect Luke of…influencing.”

 

“I know.  Believe me, I know.”  Poe restrained a sigh.  He had heard stories about Emperor Luke and his unique ability to “influence” officials, ambassadors, anyone who crossed his path.  Poe had never witnessed it, but when he was training he had heard stories about treaties with no support had suddenly been signed and approved, an official who had been sharing confidential information abruptly confessed and requested to be released from his position, even an approaching war between Russia and Sweden had been aborted after the Emperor had spoken with the Swedish ambassador for twenty minutes between acts at a ballet.  Poe knew better than to believe rumors, but there were enough stories that there had to be a kernel of truth.

 

“Join me for a drink tomorrow,” Han offered, slightly louder.  Someone was listening.

 

Poe smiled.  “Sounds good.  After dinner?”

 

Han nodded.  “Need a ride home?”

 

“No, Snap lent me his car for the night.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  Good night, sir,” Poe called over his shoulder to Luke, who was standing in the doorway of the parlor.  Predictably, Luke did not respond.  Poe resisted the urge to turn and make a rude gesture towards the dowager emperor but it was a near thing.  Poe clapped Han on the arm before making his way outside, down the stone stairs, and into Snap’s car, which had been pulled around for him.  Knowing Luke, it had probably been waiting for him since the dessert dish had been removed from the dining table.  Poe brought the car around the circular drive and then left through the tall wrought iron gate.

 

Once he reached the center of Paris Poe steered the car away from his apartment, following the directions he had received earlier that day.  The false label on the vodka bottle had revealed a list of street names.  Poe had looked over a map before leaving the studio for dinner, and now made his way down to the Left Bank, towards an unnamed and unlit alleyway.  He parked Snap’s car under a streetlight on the street next to the designated alleyway, got out, and strolled towards the black door at the end of the alley.  He privately hoped this was not where Finn had met Maz earlier that day; Finn didn’t need to be seen in this part of the city.

 

Poe knocked and muttered, “Takodana.”

 

The door swung open and Poe entered the club.  A piano player and a singer were set up in the corner, a few people were dancing but most were grouped around low tables or leaning against the bar.  Poe joined them, drawing up a barstool and gesturing for the barkeep.

 

“What can I get you?”

 

“Gin and tonic,” Poe said, figuring he wouldn’t be here long.

 

“Haven’t seen you around,” the barkeep mentioned, fixing Poe’s drink.

 

“I’m meeting someone,” Poe replied, sliding a five franc note across the bar in return for his drink. 

 

“I’ll let Maz know,” the barkeep nodded, walking off to the far end of the bar and leaving through a door.  Poe sighed and took a sip, cracking a small smile at the taste.  All gin, some tonic.  Not bad.

 

“You got my note,” a voice behind Poe spoke over the music.  Poe nodded, not turning.  “Cautious, huh?  I like that.  Everyone is here because I trust them to keep their traps shut.”

 

Poe smiled at that, turning around to face Maz, dressed in white dinner jacket, black trousers, and a bowtie.  She jerked her head towards an empty table and Poe followed her over and took a seat.

 

“I got your note.  I would appreciate it if you don’t use my fiancé as your mule in future,” Poe answered, keeping his voice casual but training his eyes on the short woman.

 

Maz chuckled.  “I needed to speak with you without drawing much attention to it.”  She paused and then said, “Did you try the vodka?  Is it the good stuff or is someone trying to stiff me?”

 

“It’s good,” Poe nodded.  “Like I said before, I’m retired, Maz.”

 

She waved that away.  “I have my own forgers.  I don’t need you.  Oh-ho, you thought I didn’t know,” she grinned as Poe’s eyes went wide.  “I have connections, even in Russia.  I put in some inquiries about Finnie’s handsome fiancé.”

 

“Did you,” Poe asked flatly.  “Where do we stand, Maz?”

 

“You’re Finnie’s man,” she said, leaning forward.  “As far as I’m concerned, you’re golden.  That’s why I’m not asking you for your expertise, despite knowing that you’re better than any of my forgers.”

 

Poe exhaled heavily.  “Then why am I here?”

 

“Because you’re Finnie’s man and that means I’m looking out for you.”

 

“I don’t need that.  I’m on the straight and narrow.”

 

“A man is asking about you,” Maz shot back.  “He’s approached a couple of my colleagues, asking for information about Poe Dameron.  Where you live, where you work.”

 

Poe took a gulp of his gin and tonic as he thought that information over.  “Russian?”

 

“I haven’t spoken to him, but I hear he speaks broken French with a Russian accent.”

 

“How long has he been asking around?”

 

“Four days.”

 

Poe nodded, hand clenched tight around his glass.  “Is he only asking about me?”

 

“Dameron, if he was asking about Finnie, he wouldn’t be around anymore,” Maz stated as surely as if she was saying it was dark outside.  “The man has only asked about you.”

 

Poe nodded again.  “Thank you, Maz.”

 

“What are you planning, Dameron,” she asked, watching his face.  “You’ve made up your mind already.”

 

“I need to talk to this man,” Poe answered simply.  “I need to know if he’s acting alone or—if this is something else.”

 

“He’s a ghost, Dameron,” Maz shook her head.  “After he approached my Charlie I tried to have someone tail him.  The man lost his tail in two blocks.  We don’t know where he’s staying, how he got here, nothing.”

 

“Then I’ll have to let him come to me,” Poe muttered distractedly, mind racing.

 

“That’s a horrible plan.  You’re with Finnie too much.”

 

Poe’s glare was harsh and sudden enough to startle Maz.  “Finn is not to hear about this.  I’ll be careful.  Give me two days and then when the man approaches another of your colleagues, tell him—I’ll figure out where to send him.”

 

Maz stared across at him.  “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She stayed silent for a moment.  “Alright.  Luc will be around.  Send me word when you’re ready.”

 

*****

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Han groaned.

 

“No, this is happening,” Poe scrubbed a hand across his face.  He hadn’t slept last night, not after he finally made his way back after his chat with Maz.  Work had been busy; dinner had been uncomfortable.

 

“And you’re not telling Finn?”

 

“Would you,” Poe asked, meeting Han’s eyes.  “If someone was asking about you, would you tell Leia?”

 

Han huffed.  “That’s different.  We’re not young and planning our wedding.”

 

“He doesn’t need to know right now,” Poe said, looking down at the glass of straight gin in his hand.  “If this is nothing, then he’d be worried for no reason.”

 

“And if it’s something?”

 

“Then there’s nothing he can do, and he would be worried for no reason,” Poe mumbled.  “I’ll be careful, Han.  I’m not trying to get myself killed.”

 

“And if you do?”

 

“Then I want you to be the one to tell Finn,” Poe stated firmly.  “That’s the only reason I’m telling you any of this.”

 

“Well, I’m glad to be included,” Han said drily.  “At least let me help you with the plan, because your plan is terrible.”

 

Poe snorted.  “Yeah, alright.  The plan is fine.  I just need a place for him to find me.  I can’t give him the studio’s address,” Poe paused as a shiver ran up his spine.  Too many people, his friends were there.  “And if this does turn out to be more than a man with a grudge I don’t want my home address bandied about.”

 

Han sat back against the booth he and Poe were sharing at a small bar not far from Poe’s apartment.  “If this man’s good enough to lose a tail, he’s not going to approach you in a public place.  He’ll follow you until he can get you alone.”

 

“There’s an alley, four streets over,” Poe said.  “It’s a T, open at two ends, but no one can see that from the street.  I’m going to lead him there.”

 

“Any chance of being seen from the buildings?”

 

“All abandoned.”

 

Han whistled lowly.  “Good set-up.  Built-in escape route.”

 

“Yeah, but I need to pick him up somewhere,” Poe groaned.

 

Han thought this over, taking a swig of his whiskey.  “What about that café you go to a block from the studio?  You go there enough that it wouldn’t be suspicious.  From there you can walk back towards your apartment like you normally would.”

 

Poe thought that over.  “It could work.  If I set it up for Monday it would be perfect.  Finn doesn’t come by the office on Mondays, so there’s no chance of him being spotted.”

 

“I still think this is a terrible plan,” Han muttered.

 

“I’m not asking for your permission, Han,” Poe sighed.  “I have to do this.”

 

“That’s what you think,” Han said, shrugging when Poe shot him a glare.  “I agree that we need to know what this mystery man wants.  Using yourself as bait--,”

 

“I’m the one he’s asking for.”

 

“I don’t understand that.  Why you?”

 

Poe shrugged.  “No idea.”

 

Han stayed silent, thinking.  “Any plans for the weekend?”

 

“Stick to my schedule.  No reason to change anything.”

 

“You should be with Finn.”

 

“I’m not going to--,” Poe broke off, taking in Han’s stern frown.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

_**Three days later**_

 

“You haven’t done this in ages,” Finn whispered, leaning out his bedroom window to take Poe’s arm.  Poe pushed himself off the drainpipe and grabbed into the window sill before heaving himself up and into the darkened room.

 

“I’m getting too old to be climbing drainpipes,” he grumbled, dusting off his trousers.  He then flashed a quick smile at the younger man.  “But this is what I do for love.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “You’re not that old,” he said quietly back, leaning in to kiss Poe’s cheek.  “What brings you up?  I thought after dinner tonight you couldn’t leave fast enough.”

 

Poe smiled softly.  “Nothing could ever make me want to leave you, my love,” he said, moving over to Finn’s bed and pulling the top quilt off.  He tossed two corners over to Finn, who walked backwards, stretching the quilt taunt and then laying it on the floor by the open window.  Poe grabbed the two pillows off the bed and threw them down on top of the quilt.

 

“I know, but the way Papa is acting I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to get out,” Finn replied, toeing out of his shoes and slipping his dinner jacket off, folding it over the chair at his desk.  He turned back to see Poe had done the same and had already stretched out on the quilt, gazing out the window at the stars visible in the clear night sky.

 

“I don’t give up that easily, love,” Poe said with a shrug, opening his arm invitingly for Finn to lie down next to him and rest his head over Poe’s heart.  Poe smiled.  “I’m sorry that it makes you uncomfortable though.”

 

“Who said I was uncomfortable,” Finn asked, feeling the exact opposite as his eyes slid shut and he felt the even, solid beats of Poe’s heart.

 

“No one had to say it; I could see it on your face.”  Poe draped his arm around Finn, his hand resting on Finn’s hip.  Poe frowned in thought; he didn’t care if Luke spent the next four months pretending Poe didn’t exist, but the way it was wearing on Finn was unacceptable.  Finn hardly ate at dinner anymore because he was caught trying to juggle a one-sided conversation with Luke and trying to compensate for his father’s behavior by talking exaggeratedly with Poe, Han, and Leia.

 

“I’m alright,” Finn whispered, rubbing his cheek against the rough material of Poe’s vest.  “I’ll talk to Papa again.  He can’t—I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Don’t worry about me, love.  I’m fine.  In a few months, we’ll be married; it’s not worth a fight.”  Poe ran his thumb across the curve of Finn’s hipbone that poked through Finn’s trousers.  Was Finn eating enough?  Was this frost between he and Luke affecting Finn that much?  Poe turned to place a kiss on the crown of Finn’s head.  “I’ll talk to your father myself.”

 

“You will?”

 

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Poe huffed.  “Yes, I will.  I can’t be here tomorrow, but Tuesday—I can talk to him on Tuesday.”  Poe pushed through the slight hitch in his throat; he had to make plans past Monday.  He didn’t know how the meeting tomorrow would go, but he would do everything in his power to see Tuesday.

 

Finn smiled blissfully up at Poe.  “That would be—I would like that.  Thank you, Poe.”

 

“No need to thank me, love.  And when are you going to start calling me ‘dragon’ again,” Poe teased gently.

 

Finn groaned, turning his head to hide his face fully against Poe’s shoulder.  “I can’t believe I told you that.”

 

“I like it,” Poe grinned wolfishly.  “I really like it.”

 

“Yeah?”  Finn turned to glance at Poe’s face.  Poe raised an eyebrow.  “I’ll remember that.”

 

Poe laughed low.  “Yeah, keep that in mind.”  He maneuvered himself, shifting Finn so he laid on his back and Poe was propped on his hands over the younger man.  Finn’s eyes widened, a small bright smile creeping over his face.  Poe moved his left leg across, so his knees bracketed Finn’s hips.  “Is this alright,” he asked, watching Finn’s face for a reaction.

 

Finn hummed happily.  “This is perfect,” he whispered before grabbing Poe’s vest front and pulling him down for a proper kiss.  Poe let himself be dragged down, sinking down to his elbows so their torsos remained separated; he might have initiated this but Poe knew he only had so much self-control.  He shifted his weight to his right elbow to bring his left hand up to Finn’s neck where he quickly loosened his tie and undid the top two shirt buttons without breaking the kiss.

 

Finn gasped against Poe’s lips when he felt Poe’s fingers brush the side of his neck.  He arched, eyelids fluttering shut.  Poe grinned, slowly moving his lips off Finn’s and down to the exposed skin above his collar.  He pressed an open kiss against the pulse point of Finn’s neck and then bit down gently at the low moan Finn emitted.

 

There were hands on his chest.  That couldn’t be right.  Poe drew back, breathing heavy to see his vest and shirt almost entirely unbuttoned.  He looked down at Finn, who looked very pleased with himself, tracing some design across Poe’s ribs.

 

“When did you do that,” Poe asked, panting.

 

“When you weren’t looking,” Finn whispered back.

 

Poe huffed at that, sitting up.  He shrugged out of his vest, tossing it to the side and leaning back down, bracing himself on his hands placed on either side of Finn’s head.  “We seem to be at an impasse.”

 

“No, we’re not,” Finn said quickly, propping himself up and stretching to try and kiss Poe, but Poe drew back.

 

“I don’t play games unless there’s an even playing field,” Poe teased, gazing down at his visibly flustered fiancé.

 

“Oh.  Oh!  We can—I can fix that,” Finn smiled.  He sat up, narrowly missing Poe, who leaned back in haste.  Finn made quick work of his vest, letting it fall off his shoulders with a shrug.  He reached for the buttons of his shirt but Poe’s hands covered his, halting their progress.

 

“That’s enough, love.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Poe responded with a soft kiss, wrapping an arm around Finn’s shoulders and lowering his back to the quilt.  Poe felt Finn’s hands touch his chest again.  Poe bit Finn’s bottom lip hard, grabbing one of Finn’s wrists and bringing it off his chest, pinning it to the floor above Finn’s head.  At the hitched breath and whine from Finn, Poe pulled back again, just enough to see the younger man’s face.  Finn’s eyes were closed, lips parted.  Then he opened his eyes.  Poe felt his heart stutter at the open look of devotion and want on his fiancé’s face.  If this was the last time—it wouldn’t be the last time he saw Finn, he would make sure of it…but if it were, this would be how Poe would want to remember him.

 

“Poe?  Dragon, what is it?”  Finn leaned up.  Poe was staring at him with a sad tenderness he didn’t understand.  “Is something wrong?”

 

“I love you so much, Finn.”

 

“I love you, Poe.  I—is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, my love.  Everything is great.  But I should be going,” Poe murmured, standing up.  He buttoned his shirt before stooping down and grabbing his vest.

 

“Really?  Right now?”  Finn watched Poe pull his vest on and then move to put his jacket and shoes back on.  “Couldn’t you stay a little longer?”

 

“It’s late, love.  I have work tomorrow, and you said you wanted to work on that Byzantium project.”  Finn nodded slowly.  Poe finished tying his shoes and glanced over at Finn, who was still seated on the floor.  “Well, what are you still doing there?”

 

“I—this is my room,” Finn said, tilting his head in confusion.

  
Poe chuckled, moving back to the quilt.  He stooped down and pulled Finn to his feet, before lowering his shoulder to Finn’s middle and leveling Finn upside down over his shoulder, Poe’s arm around the back of Finn’s knees.  Finn let out a small squeal of surprise, whacking Poe solidly on the small of his back in protest.

 

“Don’t give me that.  I know you like it when I carry you,” Poe laughed, patting Finn’s leg comfortingly.  He deposited Finn on his bed, turned back and threw the pillows back towards the bed, one hitting Finn square in the face.

 

“Oof!  Hey, stop—Poe!”

 

Poe grinned as he tossed the quilt over Finn.   “Stop what?  I’m helping; look, you’re ready to sleep, now.”  Poe covered his mouth to hide the smirk at the thoroughly unimpressed look on Finn’s face when he finally emerged from the blanket.

 

“Thank you very much.  I don’t know how I manage to get to bed without you,” Finn said drily.

 

“Well, in four months you won’t have to,” Poe replied easily, leaning down to capture Finn’s lips again.  “Good night, my love.”

 

“I’ll see you Tuesday?”

 

“That’s the plan,” Poe said over his shoulder as he slipped out the window.  He paused, legs outside, arms braced against the windowsill.  “I’ll call you tomorrow night if I get a chance.”

 

“Alright.  I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”  Poe lowered himself out the window, grasping the drainpipe with his knees before swinging his arms over.  He climbed down quickly and made his way through the garden, feeling more confident than he normally would that his exit would be unobserved.  The only other bedroom that faced the garden was Han’s, and Han was otherwise engaged.  Poe jumped the wrought iron fence easily and hurried along to the end of the alley.

 

Han was waiting in Leia’s car.  Poe climbed into the passenger seat and opened his mouth to speak but Han quickly said, “I don’t want to know.  As far as I’m concerned, you went to have a chat.”

 

“Finn and I spoke,” Poe agreed with a nod.

 

Han grunted and steered the car down the street and towards Poe’s apartment.  “Did you tell him about your big plan for tomorrow?”

 

“I told him I would see him Tuesday,” Poe evaded.

 

Han shook his head.  “You’re making this damn difficult for everyone if—on the off-chance things don’t go well tomorrow.”

 

“That’s why I want to give you this,” Poe said, drawing a sealed envelope out of his inside jacket pocket.

 

“You already gave me your will,” Han responded gruffly.

 

“Not much of a will.  That lawyer looked like he wanted to laugh at me,” Poe grumbled.  “This is a letter.  For Finn.  Just in case.”

 

Han heaved a sigh.  He took the envelope with one hand and shoved it into his jacket pocket.  “I am burning this as soon as you call me tomorrow night.”

 

“Thank you, Han.  I appreciate this.”

 

“Tell me that tomorrow night, kid.”

 

*****

 

Poe shifted his weight slightly as he faced the man.  So far everything had gone according to plan.  He had picked up his tail at the café after work, after a tense conversation with Snap.

 

_“If anything were to happen, I would want you to be there for Finn.”_

_“What’s happening, Poe?”_

_“Nothing.  But if something did, would you make sure Finn wasn’t alone?”_

_“Yeah, Poe.  I would.  Now, is there anything else you want to get off your chest or can I get back to this paperwork?”_

 

Poe had led the mystery man through the streets, taking every opportunity to try and catch a glimpse of the man behind him in the shop windows they passed.  Eight blocks later Poe still had no hint of who the man could be or what he looked like.  Poe had turned into the T-alley casually, and had continued walking, heading for the junction when he heard the footsteps behind him.  Turning, Poe drew his pistol, cocking the safety, and leveling at the man behind him.  The man evidently had the same idea, and Poe found himself with a pistol aimed at his heart by a person who was still half hidden by shadows.

 

“Who are you,” Poe called out, keeping his pistol steady.

 

The man’s arm didn’t quiver.  “I’m here to ask you the same question.”  His voice was low and gruff, and he spoke with precision.  Military? 

 

“You’re the one who’s been asking about me.  Seems like you know my name already.”

 

“Last I heard Poe Dameron was dead.”

 

Poe thought that piece of information over.  At no point in the past twelve years had he faked his death; he had used aliases with varying levels of success, but never had he fully shed his own name.  “I guess you got some bad information.”

 

“Prove it.”

 

“Listen, if you’re here to kill me I don’t have much incentive to prove I’m Poe Dameron,” Poe said raising an eyebrow.

 

At that the pistol pointed at him shook slightly.  Interesting.  “I’m not here to kill Poe Dameron.  I’m here to kill someone who is impersonating him.”

 

Poe squinted.  “Then you’ve come a long way to be disappointed.  How do you want me to prove it?”

 

There was a pause.  It was as though the man had not thought this far in advance.  “Who is your mother?”

 

“Shara Bey, blacksmith.  Died when I was eight.  Is that really the best question you have?”

 

“Did you attend her funeral?”

 

Poe’s jaw dropped open.  How did this man know about _that_?  “No,” Poe choked out.  “No, I—I didn’t.  I didn’t want to see her in the coffin.  How do you--,”

 

“Where did you go that day?”

 

“Her forge.  I sat there crying for hours,” Poe answered mindlessly.  He was squinting, trying to see the man who was still standing in the shadows.  “I was there until--,”

 

“Until your father found you.  I know.”  The man’s voice shook, his pistol lowering fully.

 

“You don’t know that,” Poe shot back, keeping his pistol raised.  “Only one other person knew that, and he died twelve years ago.”

 

“Poe, put your gun down.”  The man sounded amused, like he thought that was a funny thing to say.

 

“No!  Tell me how you know that!”

 

“Poe,” the man sighed.  “I know because I was there.”

 

“You weren’t.  I would remember if there was someone else there.”

 

The man’s shoulder began to shake.  It took Poe a moment to realize the man was laughing.  At him.  “God bless you, Poe.  I thought you were smarter than this.”  And then he stepped fully into the slant of light where Poe stood.

 

Poe stared, taking in the man’s graying black beard, his olive-toned skin, the wrinkles around his eyes.  “Oh, come on.”  The pistol fell from his hand.  It was a miracle it didn't fire as it hit the ground.  “This can’t be happening.  Is Mom hiding around the corner too?  Did anyone actually die in the coup?”

 

“Poe, I know this must be a shock for you,” Kes Dameron said, putting his pistol back in its holster before approaching Poe slowly, hands out.

 

“A shock?  No, I’m fine.  I thought I was going to die today, and now I’m talking to my father, who was dead.”

 

“Son, I need you to take a deep breath,” Kes ordered, placing his hands on Poe’s shoulders.  “Is there somewhere we can go and talk?”

 

“Sure, Dad,” Poe laughed a bit manically, throwing his hands up.  “Where are my manners?  Please, follow me to my apartment, where I live.  Where I never thought you would ever be.”

 

“Okay.  Deep breaths,” Kes soothed.  “Lead the way.”

 

*****

 

“New York?”

 

“That’s where I’ve been living,” Kes nodded. 

 

Poe nodded in response, taking a large gulp of vodka.  “Alright.  Neither of us are dead.”

 

“No, Poe.  I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to find you.”

 

“It’s—fine.  I didn’t look for you,” Poe mumbled, staring at the floor.  “They said you were—but once I got released from prison I never--,”

 

“I was mostly likely long gone by then,” Kes sighed.  “As soon as I was well enough to walk I looked for you, but no one could tell me anything.”

 

“Why did you come looking for me now?”

 

“Because of this,” Kes answered, pulling a folded sheet of newspaper and handing it over.  Poe took it, putting his glass down to shake out the sheet and look at it.  It was in English, which Poe couldn’t read, but front and center was the formal photograph of him and Finn.

 

“So the news has reached America, huh?”  Poe handed the newspaper back to his father, who placed it on the low table in front of the sofa.  “If that says what I think it does there are a few things I should clarify.”

 

“Son, you will have to clarify a great many things to me,” Kes said, crossing his arms.

 

Poe smirked.  “God, you’re scolding me already?  It’s been, what, half an hour?”

 

Kes shook his head.  “Tell me about him.”

 

Poe didn’t need to ask who Kes was asking about.  “Finn is…amazing.  Smart.  Kind.  Beautiful.  Can get himself into complete disasters and then gets himself right out of them.  He tries so hard to help everyone.  Never thinks about himself.  Never asks for anything.  He spent ten years in an orphanage, no memories of who he was.”

 

“What?”  Kes leaned forward.  “He didn’t know who he was?”

 

“No.  That might be a story for another time,” Poe chuckled.  “I don’t come out looking very good during it.”

 

“You can tell me about it later,” Kes smiled.  “You sound very much in love.”

 

“I am.”

 

Kes watched a soft, slightly silly smile spread across his son’s face.  “I look forward to meeting him.”

 

“Yeah.  God, that will be an interesting conversation,” Poe blinked.  “When do you want to meet him?  How long are you staying?  What’s your plan?”

 

“I don’t have one.”  Kes reached over and took Poe’s glass of vodka and took a sip.  “That’s very good,” he commented before continuing, “I came out to find this Poe Dameron.  I didn’t think it would actually be you.”

 

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here.  I—I would like you to stay, if you can.”

 

Kes covered Poe’s clasped hands with one of his own.  “To tell the truth, I have no attachment to New York.  A new city might do me some good.”

 

Poe grinned.  “Paris is a nice place.”

 

“Well, if you say so that settles it,” Kes said with a wink.  Poe had forgotten his father winked.  “If you don’t mind, I would like to wrap my head around my son being alive before I meet the royal family.”

 

Poe snorted.  “Yeah, you’ll want to put that off as long as possible.  Finn is wonderful.  His father is—less wonderful.”

 

“That sounds like another story for another time.”

 

“It is.”  Poe glanced down at his watch.  “Dad, do you mind if I make a call?  I want to say good night to Finn.”

 

“Who are you and what have you done to my son?”

 

“Thanks, Dad, for that vote of confidence,” Poe said drily, standing up and making his way into his kitchen where his telephone was.  He spun the rotary, dialing the dowagers’ phone number.  He waited to be connected, and when Artú answered he said, “Good evening, this is Poe.  Could I speak to Finn?”

 

“Of course, sir.  Please hold the line.”

 

“Thank you.”  Poe waited for maybe a minute before Finn’s voice came through the headpiece.  “Hello, my love.  It’s great to hear your voice.”

 

“I saw you yesterday,” Finn replied, sounding pleased.

 

“It’s been that long?  What a crime.”  Poe beamed as Finn’s laugh rang through the line.  “How was your day?”

 

“Fine.  I finally got a dent into the research.  How about you?”

 

“Well, it was more eventful than I thought.  I’ll tell you about it later, when I see you.”

 

“Okay,” Finn drew out.  “But everything is okay?”

 

“Yes, love.  Everything is great.”

 

“Good.  You seemed—last night I thought maybe there was something on your mind.  And Han has been acting strange tonight.”

 

“Ah.”  Poe bit his lip, looking back into his living room where his father was sitting, turned to face the kitchen.  “I’m sorry I worried you.  But I promise you everything is fine.  After we’re done talking I’ll speak to Han.”

 

“Okay,” Finn said, sounding relieved.  “I’m glad.  And I—thank you for calling.”

 

“Of course.”  Poe heard mumbling over the line.  “What’s going on, love?”

 

“It’s Han.  He says Papa wants to talk to me,” Finn sighed.  “I should go.  You’re coming to dinner tomorrow, aren’t you?”

 

“Uh,” Poe glanced back at his father, “I’ll try.  I will let you know.  I love you.”

 

“I love you, Poe.  Good night.”

 

“Good night, Finn.”  Poe listened to rustling as the phone was handed off.  “Han?”

 

“Took you long enough to call, kid,” Han grunted.  “Talk to me.”

 

“It’s alright.  We don’t have to worry.  I don’t want to tell you over the phone, but the man isn’t hostile.”

 

“Damn, kid.  You’re safe?”

 

“I am.”

 

“That’s all I care about,” Han said with a level of sincerity that staggered Poe.  “I’ll see you when I see you.”

 

“Sounds good.  Keep an eye out for Finn, please.”

 

“I will.  Have a good night.”

 

“You too, Han.”  Poe hung up and slumped back against the counter.

 

Kes walked over, leaning against the doorframe.  “Is Han up to his usual tricks?”

 

Poe stared.  “Dad, you have no idea.”               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for the amazing comments and all the kudos for this story. All of you are stupendous :)


	8. Chapter 7: August, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter this week. Yesterday was a bit crazy, huh? But on with the story!

_**Three days later**_

 

Poe cleaned the last of the shaving cream off his razor before setting it asides and leaning over the sink and splashing warm water across his face.  He turned off the faucet, grabbed the small towel from the counter, and dragged it across his chin, neck, and cheeks.  He picked up the small bottle of bay rum, tipped it into his hand, and then rubbed it across his jawline.  Wiping his hands hastily, he pulled on his crisp white shirt, buttoned it, and tucked it into his trousers.  He pulled his suspenders over his shoulders, then pulled his collar up so he could loop his tie around his neck.  Poe absentmindedly fashioned his tie into a Windsor knot as he walked out of the small washroom, through his bedroom, and made a beeline for the kitchen to make some coffee.

 

“God damn it!”

 

“Still here, son,” Kes said easily from where he was seated at Poe’s desk, reading the morning paper with a full coffee press at his elbow.

 

Poe tossed his head back, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips.  “I’m never going to get used to this.”

 

“Give it time,” Kes reassured, glancing up.  He observed Poe, who made his way over to the desk and sank down into the armchair Kes had dragged over earlier that morning.  “I forget.  I keep expecting to see a teenager walk out every morning.  When did you grow up?”

 

“I don’t know, Dad,” Poe laughed, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  “Probably the same time you were getting gray hairs.”

 

Kes hummed noncommittally, sipping from his own cup.  “So what are your plans for the day?”

 

“Work,” Poe said with a shrug.  “Then I should probably go to the dowagers’ for dinner.  I don’t want Finn to think I’m avoiding it.”

 

“Avoiding what?  I thought the dowager emperor was ignoring you,” Kes muttered, annoyed.  That particular story of Poe’s had not gone over well with his father.

 

“I told Finn I would talk to Luke, even though there’s nothing to talk about,” Poe rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Will you be alright on your own tonight?”

 

Kes raised an eyebrow.  “I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, son.”

 

Poe smirked.  “I can stop by after work if you want.”

 

“Poe, I’ll have you know that I was in the infantry for twenty-five years and living on my own for the last twelve.  I can manage.”

 

“You seemed very confused by the stove yesterday,” Poe teased.

 

“The stoves in America make sense,” Kes countered.  “That disgrace of modern technology you have in your kitchen--,”

 

“Okay, okay, Dad.  Relax,” Poe laughed.  “I have complete faith in you.”

 

Kes nodded, returning his attention to the paper.  “However,” he said nonchalantly, “if you do have time before heading to the dowagers’, I’m sure your neighbors would appreciate the building not burning down today.”

 

“I’m sure they would,” Poe agreed, finishing his coffee.  “I’ll see you around seven, Dad.”

 

“Have a good day, son.”

 

*****  

 

“Do you think I could get a job?”

 

“What?”  Rey squinted over at Finn.  Finn had shown up at her house an hour ago, looking worn and had asked if she was available to go for a walk.  They had been strolling through Paris, in the vague direction of Poe’s apartment, while Finn deflected all of Rey’s questions about why he had shown up on her doorstep.  “I suppose, but why do you want a job?”

 

“Well, when Poe and I are married—it seems like a good idea,” Finn muttered.

 

Rey hummed unconvinced.  “I’m sure your dowry will take care of most concerns.  At least until you finish your studies.”

 

“Dowry,” Finn groaned.  “All I hear about is this dowry.”

 

“Is Poe--,”

 

“No,” Finn said firmly.  “Poe hasn’t even mentioned the word.”  Finn sighed, looking down at the pavement under his feet.  “It’s Papa.”

 

Rey nodded, encouraging Finn to continue.  When he didn’t immediately she asked, “Does that bother you?”

 

“It’s hard to explain.  He talks about it as if—as though Poe won’t be with me.”

 

“Indeed?”  Rey schooled her face into a neutral expression.  “How so?”

 

“Well,” Finn drew out, “Papa wants to put the dowry in my name.  So that I can decide how to spend it.  He mentioned—he said that the money would be mine, no matter what.  But,” Finn glanced over at Rey, “I don’t think that’s how a dowry works.”

 

“It’s not,” Rey said darkly.  “Have you told Poe about this?”

 

Finn sighed, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets.  “No.  Not yet.  I saw him yesterday for lunch, but that didn’t seem like the right time.”

 

“You should tell him as soon as—hey!”

 

A man bumped Rey, sending her staggering into Finn.  Simultaneously Finn felt his arm grabbed and pulled roughly into a narrow alley, taking Rey with him.  Rey landed on the ground while Finn was pushed against the stone building, his back aching as he pressed against the uneven stones as a jack knife’s blade was placed against his jugular.

 

“Listen up, big shot, and no one gets hurt.”

 

Finn tried to lean further away from the knife and its wielder’s sour breathe.  Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw a second man gesture for Rey to stand with his own knife.  Rey stood slowly but remained crouched, her hands spread in front of her.  She shot Finn a look, who blinked once in response.

 

Rey charged her assailant, throwing her entire weight against the man’s knees.  Her man toppled backwards, and Rey rushed to grab the knife.  Finn grabbed his attacker’s wrist, managing to push the knife away from his neck, before jerking his knee up and connecting with the man’s groin.  Finn’s mugger grunted and bent in response; Finn twisted the man’s wrist hard, making him drop the knife.  Finn kicked the fallen weapon towards Rey, who snatched it and stood, holding both knives in her tight fists.  Finn pushed his assailant away.  Without looking away from her man on the ground, Rey tossed one of the knives to Finn, who caught it by the handle and held it in front of him.

 

“Picked the wrong money bags, pal,” Rey growled.

 

“Played us for a couple of saps,” Rey’s man muttered.

 

“Wasn’t hard to do,” Finn countered.  “I don’t suppose you know Maz, do you?”

 

Both men paled at that.  “How do ya know the Queen?”

 

“We’re under her protection,” Finn answered calmly.

 

“He happens to be the Prince,” Rey added with a smirk.  “You might want a head start because once Maz hears about this--,”

 

The would-be muggers didn’t wait for Rey to finish that thought.  The pair took off in opposite directions; Rey moved to follow her attacker but Finn stopped her.  “It’s not worth the effort, Rey,” he soothed.  Rey grumbled but stayed where she was, closing the knife she held and slipping it into the pocket of her wide legged pants.  Finn passed the knife in his grasp to her, and it joined the other.  “We work well together,” Finn said casually.  When that didn’t garner a reaction, Finn tried a different approach.  “You called me the Prince… The least you could do is get my title right.”

 

“That’s what Maz called you,” Rey replied in a low voice.  “Luc told me.  You know what she calls Poe?”  Finn shrugged and shook his head.  “The Knight.”

 

“Poetic,” Finn observed.  “We should—go somewhere else.”

 

“I’m going to find Maz,” Rey declared, striding out of the alley and starting off down the sidewalk.  Finn hurried to catch up.

 

“Okay, we can do that.  Are you--,”

 

“Finn, go to Poe’s.”

 

Finn paused mid-step.  “What?  Why?  I have time.  I can come with you.”

 

Rey turned to face her friend, putting her fists on her hips.  “No.  I can handle this.  You still need to talk to Poe.”

 

Finn blinked.  “I mean, it can wait.  It’s not urgent.”

 

Sighing, Rey shook her head.  “I think this has waited long enough, don’t you, Finn?”  She studied him, the dark bags under his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders that never straightened anymore, the near permanent crease between his eyebrows.  “I can speak to Maz on my own, Finn, but no one but you can talk to Poe.”

 

“I don’t know what to tell him,” Finn mumbled with a shake of his head.  “But okay.  Let me know what happens.”

 

“I will, and you do the same,” Rey said, turning on her heel and walking away.

 

Finn shoved his hands on his trouser pockets and turned back in the direction of Poe’s apartment building.  He was surprisingly close to Poe’s apartment.  Glancing at his watch, Finn guessed he would probably reach the apartment before Poe did.  He would have to wait in the hallway, which Finn found uncomfortable, but until they were married Finn felt asking for his own key would be a step too far.  That was if Poe decided to keep the apartment.  Should they move somewhere else, somewhere with more space?  Would the dowry cover that?  Finn entered the building as a man on his way out held the door open.  Finn smiled his thanks before jogging up the narrow staircase to the fourth floor.  At Poe’s door, Finn knocked just to be safe; he turned away from the door immediately after and leaned against it to wait.

 

When the door opened, Finn stumbled backwards and hit a solid body.

 

“Sorry!  I thought you were still—who are you?”

 

Finn turned and stepped away, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet.  This day was just getting worse and worse.  The man standing in Poe’s doorway was too tall, too old, too broad, and too bearded.  He looked surprised as he observed Finn before a small smile spread across his lips.

 

“You must be Finn,” the man said in an oddly gentle voice.

 

Finn clenched his fists.  “Who are you?  Where’s Poe?”

 

“I assume he’s at work,” the man replied, holding the door open further.  “You should come in.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me who you are,” Finn snapped.

 

“Ah.  I see.  Well, in that case, my name is Kes Dameron and it’s a pleasure you meet you.”

 

*****

         

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d see,” Poe said with an easy smile when he finally recovered enough to speak.  Finn’s head turned quickly towards Poe, and Kes leaned back on the sofa and shrugged.

 

“Poe!”  Finn jumped out of Poe’s armchair and hurried across the apartment, pulling Poe into a hug.  Poe laughed in surprise; he hadn’t seen Finn this happy and excited in too long.  “Poe, I came over to see you and to tell you about—well—but then your father was here and he and I have been talking and he said you were going to introduce us later after he had time to get settled and I understand that but I’m so glad I met him because he’s amazing!”

 

Poe stared at his fiancé.  “Woah, alright, love.  Slow down.  Is everything okay?”  The last question he directed to Kes over Finn’s head.

 

“I guess your boy isn’t much of a drinker,” Kes said with a small smirk.  Poe then noticed the cognac bottle and two glasses on the table.

 

“You’re trying to get my fiancé drunk?”

 

“I asked if he wanted to have a drink with me and he said yes,” Kes replied.  “How could I have known he’s never touched the stuff?”

 

“I have,” Finn interjected.  He looked between Kes and Poe.  “I have had cognac before.  It’s sweet.  I like it.”

 

“I’m sure you do,” Poe said soothingly.  “Let’s sit down, okay?  Maybe I’ll finish your glass.  How many has he had,” he asked Kes quietly, snatching Finn’s drink off the table and perching on one of the arms of the armchair.

 

“That’s only his second,” Kes answered softly.  “He was quite haggard when he arrived.  I think he just needed to relax a bit.”

 

“Haggard?”  Poe glanced down at Finn, who was leaning casually against Poe’s hip.  “Is it that Byzantine project you were working on?”

 

“It’s a study on the evolving role of the Patriarch of Constantinople from 381 to 1453,” Finn said lazily.  “And no, I’ve had to step back from that.  The documents switch from Latin to Greek, and I don’t know Greek.  Well,” Finn sighed and rolled his eyes up to Poe, “I don’t remember any Greek.  Papa says I was learning Greek before the coup, but that doesn’t help me now,” Finn groaned.  “Right now I have to translate word by word and I have other projects to focus on and I don’t have the time.”

 

“I imagine that’s very stressful for you,” Kes said gently, leaning forward towards Finn.  Poe smiled at his father; it made Poe’s heart clench a little to see his father like that with Finn, already worried.  Finn must have charmed Kes very quickly.

 

“It’s fine.  I can handle it,” Finn said shrugging.  “I like what I’m studying.  I just don’t have much time to get the work done.  I’m in the library every day then when I go home it’s one wedding thing after another.  The flowers I picked don’t go with the table settings that were chosen weeks ago and the napkins aren’t the correct shade of white and am I sure I want so much white or should there be accents of burgundy or if not burgundy maybe blue—dark blue,” Finn paused to inhale and pointed at Kes, “midnight blue or indigo but if I really want it to be all white I should really decide now because if we need to change the table settings it should have been done two weeks ago and don’t forget about our talk tonight because we still need to discuss where you’re going to be living after the wedding and if you’re going to buy a house we need to start looking for one now so we can order furniture but really are you sure about white?”

 

Finn ended gasping for breath, leaning back, and covering his face with his hands.  Kes sent an alarmed look at his son, who was frozen, gaping down at Finn. 

 

“I thought you said the planning was going well,” Kes accused.

 

“I thought it was,” Poe hissed back.  “Finn, has all this happened in the last three days?”

 

“All of that happened in the twenty minutes I was home today before I came here,” Finn groaned.  “But it’s been like that since June.  There’s just so much to _do_.”  Finn dropped his hands from his face quickly and stared at Poe.  “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.  Sorry.  Maybe the cognac was too much…”

 

“What do you mean you weren’t supposed to tell me,” Poe asked suspiciously.  Finn’s eyes darted down to his lap where his hands were clenching and unclenching.  “Finn, who told you not to tell me about wedding plans?”

 

“Everyone,” he mumbled, still staring at his lap.

 

“Everyone?”  Poe frowned.  “You mean Luke and Leia?”

 

“Aunt Leia said I shouldn’t bother you about the small details because you have your job and you work late pretty often so I shouldn’t stress you out more.”  Finn missed the angry look Kes sent Poe’s way and Poe’s own shocked face.  “Papa said that it’s easier for me to make the quick decisions because I live there.  He said that you probably wouldn’t want me to be calling you constantly for your opinion.  Han said you wouldn’t care what the forks looked like.”  Finn shrugged.  “Everyone said not to bother you.”

 

Poe jumped to his feet and started pacing.  “You mean to tell me that you have been planning this entire wedding by yourself because Luke, Leia, and Han told you not to bother me?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Finn said, watching Poe pace.

 

“Because it would stress me out?”

 

“Right.”

 

“What about you?  What about the fact that you’ve been trying to handle all of this in addition to your projects?  What about the fact that you’re stressed out?  Did they ever consider that?”

 

Finn stared.  “Well—I don’t—I mean--,”

 

“Finn, have you been sleeping,” Kes asked softly.  Poe whipped his head around to see Finn bury his head in his hands.  Kes reached out a placed a hand on the back of Finn’s neck.  “You need to sleep, little one.”

 

If Poe wasn’t so concerned about his fiancé’s state of health he would have been amused by his father’s term of endearment for Finn.  It seemed like everyone who met Finn gave him a nickname.

 

“I don’t have time.”  Finn’s voice was muffled by his hands.

 

“Why don’t you have time,” Kes pressed patiently.  “Do your father and aunt follow you to bed with questions?”

 

“Not exactly,” Finn sighed, leaning back in his seat.  He focused on Kes because he knew Poe was upset.  “They stop talking about wedding things once Poe arrives for dinner, if he can make it to dinner that night.  After he leaves, Papa has been…” Finn trailed off.

 

“After I leave he’s been keeping you up to talk,” Poe growled, draining the rest of the cognac in the glass quickly.

 

“How do you know about that,” Finn asked, shooting a look of genuine surprise at his fiancé.

 

“Han mentioned it.  Would you care to fill me in on what else I’ve missed?”  Poe tried to meet Finn’s eyes but the way Finn’s kept glancing around the room it was impossible.  Poe waited, and eventually Finn’s gaze settled on Kes.

 

“Papa has been acting…odd.  I don’t understand it.  He and Poe were finally getting along and then suddenly they’re not.  Papa keeps telling me that if I ever need anything—if—or when—Poe isn’t around I should go to him.  But the way he says it--,”

 

“Oh my God,” Poe gasped.

 

“—it’s like he expects Poe to not be around and I don’t understand it—he wants the dowry to be in my name and he says I’m not ready, that I still need to learn what it means to be married, which doesn’t sound bad but the way he says it…”

 

“Yeah, I know how he says it,” Poe snapped, turning away.  “He’s planning our divorce, Finn.”

 

“ _What?_ ”  Finn gaped as he watched Poe begin to pace.

 

“Your father is putting things in order because he thinks I’m going to leave you.  Or hoping you’ll leave me, but I doubt that.  Damn it, when did this start?  After you were sick or before?”

 

“A-after,” Finn whispered.

 

“I say one goddam word against royalty and now I’m—damn it!  He’s lost his mind if he thinks—no wonder you can’t sleep!  Between planning a wedding and a divorce it’s a miracle you have time to breathe!”  

 

“Poe,” Kes said sharply.  Poe rounded on his father but Kes shook his head.  “Calm down.  You’re upsetting him.”

 

Finn had curled into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.  Kes was rubbing his back slowly, and Finn was taking short gasping breaths that Poe knew were a sign that Finn was trying to keep from crying.  Poe swiftly came back to the armchair and knelt down in front of Finn.

 

“Finn, love, look at me.”  Poe placed his hands over Finn’s and gently drew them away from his fiancé’s face.  Poe met Finn’s eyes.  “I’m not mad at you.  Never at you.  I’m angry _for_ you.  Your family shouldn’t be treating you like this, love.  That’s too much pressure to put on anyone.”

 

“I don’t—why would he do that,” Finn asked wetly.

 

Poe opened his mouth to retort but Kes cut in.  “We can’t know that until you’ve spoken to him, little one.”

 

Finn shrugged.  “Can we—can we talk about something else, please,” he whispered.

 

Poe and Kes exchanged a quick look.  Neither of them were ready to drop the subject, but Poe nodded slowly.

 

“Of course we can, love.  Come here,” Poe said, pulling Finn down for an embrace.  “Have you eaten?  Should we go have dinner?”

 

“Don’t want to go home,” Finn mumbled into Poe’s shoulder.

 

“No, I didn’t mean that.  We can go to a restaurant around here.  The three of us,” Poe smiled over at his father.  “If you think you’re up for it, old man.”

 

Kes laughed.  “You sure you don’t mind me tagging along on your date?”

 

“Just this once,” Poe tossed back with a smile.

 

The three of them ended up at a small hole in the wall where Poe covertly watered down Finn’s white wine while Kes shared a few moderately embarrassing stories of Poe’s childhood exploits ( _“Dad, that never happened!”  “Son, I saw you get chased through the field by a goose.  You were screaming”_ ).  Finn tried to share his beef tartare with Poe, but Poe didn’t see the appeal and finished his fillet de sole.  Kes also passed on Finn’s offer but was happy to let Finn try a bite of the veal he had ordered.  Chocolate mousse to finish the meal, and, satisfied that Finn was relaxed and at ease, Poe led them back to his apartment, keeping Finn’s hand firmly on his arm. 

 

“Alright, love, why don’t you take a seat while I see if Snap can lend me his car,” Poe suggested.  Finn was already flopping down on Poe’s sofa before he had finished speaking, mumbling incoherently into the cushions.  Poe laughed lightly, scratching Finn’s head before retreating into the small kitchen.  Kes was already there, leaning against the counter.

 

“What do you plan to do,” Kes asked quietly.

 

“I’m going to call Snap—Lieutenant Wexley—and ask to borrow his car to drive Finn home,” Poe answered, spinning the rotary to dial.  “He lives a few streets down.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Kes said, while the operator asked Poe to hold while his call was connected.

 

“You mean what am I going to do about Finn’s family pushing him to the brink of collapse?  About Luke’s conniving plotting?”  Poe’s eyes flashed but he kept his voice steady.  “I don’t know yet.”

 

“Hello,” came Snap’s voice faintly through Poe’s earpiece.

 

“Snap, it’s Poe.  Can I borrow your car for thirty minutes?”

 

“Is Finn with you?  Luke just called asking if I knew where he was.  He said he tried to call you but there was no response.”

 

“We went out for dinner.  Finn is in the other room.  I’m going to drive him home.”

 

“I’ll drive you,” Snap said with an audible sigh.  “I’ve got to make sure Luke doesn’t shoot you on sight.”

 

“After tonight you might have to make sure I don’t shoot him on sight,” Poe grunted.  “But thanks.  Honk when you’re here.”

 

“Be there in ten.” 

 

Poe hung up the phone and exhaled sharply.  “Shooting the dowager emperor probably isn’t an option, right?”

 

“I’d rather not see my son become an assassin, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

“I don’t know where to start, Dad.  Maybe Leia didn’t mean it—but how could she not know?”  Poe stared at his father.  “How could they live with him and not know or care what they’ve been doing to him?”

 

“Son, I think you might be underestimating your fiancé,” Kes said gently.  “I’ve only known him a few hours but it seems to me that Finn will try to do everything he can if it is asked of him.”

 

“I know that.  He’d saw off his arm if he thought that would help someone,” Poe said exasperated.

 

“I’m not entirely sure his family understands that.”

 

“No.  They know.  They know how Finn is.”  Poe shook his head.  “They told him not to bother me.  As though asking for help would bother me.”

 

“That would be something to discuss with the dowagers,” Kes allowed.  “As well as something to clarify with Finn, when he’s feeling better.”

 

Poe nodded, moving to lean next to his father.  They were silent for a moment.  “So, ‘little one,’” Poe asked playfully, nudging his father’s shoulder.

 

Kes coughed.  “It slipped out.”

 

“When was the last time you called someone that?  Me when I was nine?”

 

“Probably,” Kes chuckled.  “You got upset and yelled at me that you weren’t little anymore.”

 

“And you said I would always be little to you,” Poe finished with a smile.  “Finn and I are nearly the same height, you know.”

 

“Which is still shorter than I am, thank you.”  Kes grinned before jerking his head towards the kitchen door.  “Do you think Finn minds me calling him that?”

 

“No, he’s pretty firm about what names he likes and doesn’t like.  If he didn’t like it, he would have said something by now; you were calling him ‘little one’ the entire dinner.” 

 

There was a series of three sharp honk outside and Poe went out into the living room to check that it was Snap.  Down on the street Snap waved up and Poe signaled they would be right down.

 

“I’ll be back soon,” Poe told his father who had followed him out.  Poe turned to the sofa to see Finn fast asleep, one leg hanging off the edge. 

 

“Would you like me to come with you?  It could help take the edge off whatever the dowagers have in store,” Kes offered.

 

“I thought the whole idea was to give you some time to adjust before meeting them?”  Poe snaked one of his arms under Finn’s shoulders and the other under Finn’s knees.  He lifted him easily off the couch, swaying slightly so Finn’s head would rest on Poe’s chest.

 

“I want to be there for you,” Kes said simply.  Poe stared at his father and swallowed thickly around a sudden knot in his throat.

 

“Alright.  Let’s get this over with.”

 

“Is Finn okay?  Who are you,” Snap asked as soon as the three of them emerged from the apartment building.

 

“Snap, this is my father, Colonel Kes Dameron.  Dad, this is Lieutenant Wexley but everyone calls him Snap,” Poe introduced quickly while Kes opened the back door and Poe adjusted Finn so he could slide into the backseat.

 

“Wait, your father,” Snap asked shocked, staring as Kes slid into the passenger seat. 

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.  Poe has told me a great deal about you,” Kes said casually.  “Thank you for driving us.”

 

“You told me he was dead!  When did your father show up?”

 

“Three days ago,” Poe answered, quietly.  “It’s a long story.  Can we get Finn home?”

 

“ _Three days_?”  Snap looked between Kes and Poe.  Slowly, Snap turned back to the wheel, shifted gears, and started off down the street.  “You better tell me this long story tomorrow, Poe.”

 

“I will,” Poe laughed.  Finn shifted slightly in Poe’s lap but made no sign of waking up.

 

“Second question: is Finn okay,” Snap asked, steering towards the fastest route to the dowagers’ home.

 

“He’s very tired,” Kes said, but Poe interjected.

 

“He’s exhausted.  Did you know he’s been planning the entire wedding alone?”

 

“Well, I didn’t know,” Snap answered.  “I assumed you weren’t involved much since you never talked about it.  When I got married, Karé was constantly telling me about a new crisis in flowers or cutlery or menu fonts…  I didn’t know what any of it meant but I think it just helped her to vent to me, if you understand.”

 

Poe sighed.  “Great.  That’s just great.  The dowagers told him not to tell me any of that because it would stress me out, apparently.”

 

“They did?”  Snap frowned.  “And knowing Finn he’s been keeping it all to himself.”

 

“Until tonight when Dad gave him some cognac and the alcohol plus the lack of sleep made it slip out.”

 

Stopping at an intersection Snap glanced at Poe and Finn in his rearview mirror.  Poe had his fiancé in a protective grip, stroking Finn’s arm while watching Finn’s relaxed face.

 

“So when you said I might have to stop you from shooting Luke…?”

 

“Dad and I already decided I shouldn’t commit regicide tonight,” Poe joked half-heartedly.  “But Luke and I have put this discussion off long enough.  And I’ll have to talk to Leia and Han, who have also decided I’m too delicate to handle the important decisions like burgundy or indigo.”

 

“Indigo,” Snap said instantly.

 

“What?”

 

“I agree with the Lieutenant,” Kes added.  “I think you should have white and indigo.”

 

“It will look very regal,” Snap supplied.

 

“And appropriate for a winter wedding,” Kes smiled.

 

“So we’ve decided then,” Poe asked drily.  “Our wedding will be white and indigo?”

 

“Well, you should probably ask Finn,” Snap said jovially.  “But your father and I endorse it.”         

 

Poe rolled his eyes.  “I can already tell you two are going to make my life impossible.”

 

“Impossible?  I think you mean to say ‘amazing,’” Snap laughed.  “What other big wedding choices have to be made?  Your father and I will solve them before we make it to the dowagers.”

 

“Oh my God,” Poe groaned.

 

“Finn mentioned something about flowers,” Kes teased.

 

“Oh my _God_.”

 

“I don’t know flowers,” Snap scowled.  “What about roses?”

 

“Does Finn know about flowers,” Kes asked, turning to look at his son.

 

“He sent me white tulips and chrysanthemums once,” Poe replied, pressing a kiss to Finn’s forehead.

 

“He sent you flowers,” Kes asked incredulously.

 

“I was mortified,” Poe allowed, smiling at the memory. 

 

“Why don’t you have tulips and whatever the other flower was then,” Snap shrugged.  “Seems simple enough.”

 

“Are they in season in December,” Kes questioned.

 

“I don’t even know what they look like,” Snap responded with wide eyes.

 

“Why don’t we leave the flowers discussion for now,” Poe suggested.  “Clearly none of us know what we’re talking about.”  A quiet murmur from Finn drew Poe’s attention.  “Love?  Did you say something?”

 

“Stupid…flowers…”

 

“I agree, Finn,” Poe chuckled.  “Stupid flowers.”

 

Finn’s breathing evened out again quickly and the car lapsed into silence for the remaining stretch to the dowagers’ home.  The gate was open; Poe surmised that Snap must have called the dowagers to let them know they were coming.  Pulling up on the drive in front the stone stairs leading up to the lit entrance, Snap put his car in park and he and Kes quickly exited the car.  Kes opened the backseat door for Poe and then held out his arms.  Poe looked confused.

 

“Hand me Finn so you can get out.”

 

“I’ve got him, Dad.”

 

“You’ll either drop him or hit your head, Poe.”  Kes leveled a hard look at his son, who sighed and shifted Finn into his father’s arms.

 

A slight jostle and Finn blinked awake.  He was being held but he couldn’t make out the face above him.  He reached up curiously a touched a coarse beard.  Poe didn’t have a beard.

 

Poe kicked the car door shut behind him and glanced up to see Finn start to struggle in Kes’s grip.

 

“Woah, little one,” Kes said, tightening his hold on Finn.  “Relax.”

 

“Let me go!  Where’s Poe?”  Finn clenched his hand into a fist to throw a punch but his arm was grabbed by someone else.  “Stop!”

 

“Damn it.  Finn, love, I’m right here.”  Poe kept a hold on Finn’s fist but stepped closer so Finn would be able to see him.  “I’m right here.  That’s my father; you remember Kes.”

 

“What?”  Finn blinked again, squinting up and between the two faces above him.  Oh.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “I thought—never mind.  I’m sorry.”

 

“You thought what?”  Kes frowned.

 

“He thought he was being kidnapped,” Poe groaned.  “It’s alright, love,” he said to Finn.  “You’re safe.  Dad, let me.”

 

“I can stand, Poe,” Finn complained as he was passed into his fiancé’s arms.

 

“I know, but I’m a bit angry with your family and I need an excuse not to do anything rash,” Poe said lightly.  Finn wasn’t convinced.

 

“I should talk to Papa.”

 

“My love, how long have been taking care of everything for me?”  Finn frowned but didn’t reply.  “This is something Luke and I need to discuss.  All you need to do now is rest.”

 

“Finn, are you okay” Snap asked, coming back down the stairs.  He had jogged up to the front door to dismiss the butler.  There was going to be a scene one way or another.  When he noticed the others were still by the car he had walked back to them to check that everything was okay.

 

“I’ve been better,” Finn mumbled, his eyes sliding shut.

 

Poe snorted.  “You’ll feel better in the morning,” Poe said firmly, starting up the stairs.  “A good night’s sleep will help.  Now, can you do me a favor, my love?”  Finn hummed softly, tickling Poe’s neck.  “I want you to keep your eyes closed and count to fifty for me.”  Finn hummed again, closing his eyes just as Poe strode into the lit entrance way, Snap and Kes following a step behind.

 

Luke could feel himself vibrate from a mixture of nerves and anger, and his sister’s hand on his arm was doing nothing to alleviate it.  When Artú had announced Lieutenant Wexley and Mr. Dameron had arrived with Finn, Luke had ceased his pacing and hurried to meet the group, Leia and Han on his heels, sensing correctly that Luke was not in a mood to be appeased.  Upon reaching the entrance hall Luke’s eyes went instantly to his son, asleep in the arms of Mr. Dameron, who himself was flanked by Snap and another older man Luke did not recognize.  Poe met Luke’s gaze with a hard stare of his own and silence reigned between them.

 

“Dowagers,” Poe said in a low, carrying voice, “I would like to present my father, Colonel Kes Dameron, formerly of the Imperial Infantry.  Dad,” Poe turned slightly to Kes who stepped up beside him, “this is the dowager emperor Luke, dowager empress Leia, and you remember General Han Solo of the Imperial Guards.”  Poe glanced at Han.  “While you make each other’s acquaintance I’m going to take my fiancé upstairs.  Then we have some issues to discuss.”

 

Poe turned away without another glance at the dowagers, moving towards the staircase to the private floors.  He heard his father speak softly and he heard Leia reply behind him as he began up the carpeted stairs.  Out of the corner of his eye, Poe saw Snap gesture for the dowagers and Kes to move into the library.  Luke made a signal to Han who moved to follow Poe.

 

“Are you going to carry me all the way to my room,” Finn asked quietly.

 

“That was the plan, unless you have some objection.”

 

“I don’t, but I think Papa might.”

 

Poe snorted.  “He needn’t worry.  Your virtue is safe.  Anyway, he sent a watchdog after us, so my nefarious plots must wait for another night.”

 

Finn laughed under his breath.  “You’re more concerned about my virtue than I am.”

 

“That doesn’t reassure me, Finn--,”

 

“Not like that,” Finn corrected quickly.  “I mean, we are going to be married soon--,”

 

“And we can talk about all that some other time,” Poe interrupted firmly.  “A time when you’re not half asleep and I’m not distracted.”

 

“And when Han isn’t right behind us,” Finn added.

 

“Preferably not,” Poe agreed, stopping outside of Finn’s bedroom door.  He looked down at Finn’s tired but relaxed smile.  “Can you find your way from here,” he teased.

 

“I think I can manage,” Finn said drily, gripping Poe’s shoulders as Poe let go of Finn’s legs and Finn found his balance.  “Will I see you tomorrow or do you have work?”

 

“Tomorrow is Friday,” Poe said, thinking.  “I have appointments all day, but I will be free after six.  Why don’t you come by the studio in the afternoon?  I will try to finish early.”

 

“Alright,” Finn agreed, leaning in to press a kiss to Poe’s lips.  “I’ll see you then.  Good night, Poe.  Tell your dad I say good night too.”

 

“Of course, love.  Sleep well.”  Poe smiled as Finn went into his dark room, a soft whine from Baby.  Finn waved a little before softly closing the door.  Poe turned quickly to glare at Han, who had the decency to stand just out of earshot down the hall.  Poe stuffed his hands in his pockets and marched back the way he came, rolling his eyes as Han fell into step next to him.  “Don’t trust me to get him to his room without incident?”

 

“I thought Finn was asleep,” Han muttered as the pair of them started down the stairs again.

 

“I see,” Poe growled.  “You don’t trust me not to take advantage of my fiancé when he’s asleep.”

 

“Is that what I said,” Han asked sharply.

 

“It’s what you implied,” Poe snapped.  “I thought you knew me better than that, Han.”

 

“Poe, what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s been a long night, and it’s only just started” Poe muttered, pushing the library door open and stomping into the room.  He took in his father standing across from the dowagers and Snap standing discreetly in the corner by the door.  Snap closed the door firmly after Han entered, and Poe turned on his heel to face Han.  “Why don’t you explain to me why you’ve decided to protect Finn _now_ when _for months_ you’ve stood by and--,”

 

“I asked Han to make sure you delivered my son to his room safely,” Luke interrupted.  “After the two of you disappeared for hours--,”

 

“I will get to you later,” Poe cut in, looking over his shoulder at Luke.  “We didn’t even brake his curfew.  In fact, we have never broken his curfew.  But that’s not good enough for you, is it?  Nothing is ever good enough for you, dowager.”

 

Luke clenched his jaw.  “Mr. Dameron, I think you should remember your position.”

 

Poe turned to face the dowager emperor fully, a predatory grin spreading across his face.  He took a step towards the dowagers.  “My position?  You know, I think I have forgotten _my position_ recently.”  Poe stalked forward to stand face to face with Luke.  “I intend not to make that mistake again.”

 

“Mr. Dameron--,”

 

“Tell me, dowagers, Han,” Poe said loudly, “what have your intentions been towards my fiancé these past few months?  Have you actively been trying to wear him to the brink of exhaustion or is that merely the byproduct of your attempts to exclude me from my own wedding?”  Poe turned to Dowager Leia.  “I had no idea my work had made such an impression on you and Han; to hear the two of you talk someone who loves me could be led to believe I’m working myself to the bone and have no time to make crucial decisions about—what was it,” Poe glanced over at his father, “napkins and forks?”

 

“You know you don’t care about any of that,” Han accused, walking to stand next to Leia.

 

“You know who else doesn’t care about any of it?  Finn,” Poe shot back.  “But you have been barraging him with questions, making them sound like the most important decisions he’ll ever have to make, to the point that he is now completely flummoxed about whether or not he wants the wedding to be white!  And God forbid he ask his future husband for help because _everyone_ has told him that I’m too busy and don’t care.”

 

“Poe,” Leia said quietly, attempting to soothe, “would you prefer I ask you these wedding questions in the future?”

 

“What I want is for you to cease all wedding questions for the next two days,” Poe replied.  “Starting on Sunday, you will have one hour after dinner to ask both of us anything you want.  If something comes up that can’t wait until after dinner, use your discretion and do what you think is best.  But you will not ask Finn anything about this wedding without me present for now on.  You will let Finn have his life back, which, all of you appeared to have forgotten, includes translations and projects and God knows what else.”

 

Han and Leia exchanged a quick glance.  “We can try it your way, Poe,” Leia conceded.  “But I suspect you underestimate how elaborate the planning is.”

 

“Then Finn and I will deal with it together,” Poe responded with an edge.  “If I hear that any of you so much as mumble about table settings Finn will not be living here any longer.”

 

“Are you threatening us, Dameron,” Luke asked, dangerously low.

 

“I’m telling you that I’m not the only one who has forgotten his position lately.”  Poe turned back to face Luke.  “Because a loving father like you claim to be doesn’t work against his son’s interests.”

 

Luke drew back.  “Dameron, you should leave before you say something you regret.”

 

“No, I’m not leaving.  I’m not going to walk out and allow things to continue as they are now.  I don’t appreciate my father in law planning the dissolution of my marriage, Luke.”

 

“ _What_ ,” Leia gasped.  She turned to face her brother.  “Luke, tell me that’s not--,”

 

“I’m protecting my son,” Luke stated, his eyes hard.  “As any father would.”

 

“No,” Poe shook his head, stepping towards the dowager emperor.  “That’s not protecting him.  You know it’s not, because you wouldn’t have hidden it in the first place if you thought you were ‘protecting’ him.”  Poe felt his father come to stand beside him.  “You know what the worst of it is, Luke,” Poe spat.  “The worst is that we had come to an accord and all it took was some third-hand information that I had a fight with Finn and--,”

 

“That’s not his name,” Luke growled.  Poe froze.

 

“How long have you been waiting to say that,” Poe asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathe came in short puffs.

 

“You have no respect--,”

 

“I have every respect,” Poe shouted.  “I have been nothing but respectful to you, your son, and your family.”

 

“You aren’t demonstrating it--,”

 

“If you can’t see it then let me try a different tactic,” Poe hissed, striding up and stopping in front of Luke’s face.  “If you keep treating my marriage to your son as though it is a sordid affair, I will do everything in my power to protect Finn from you.”  Poe turned quickly away from Luke to face Leia.  “I will see you for dinner on Sunday and we can discuss wedding plans then.”  Poe then left the room, Kes and Snap following after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for the amazing comments and kudos from the last chapter. You are all spectacular :)


	9. Chapter 8: September, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: there are mentions of injuries and mistreatment of children in the past, nothing too explicit   
> Also, I think it may be safe to assume this story will be updated on Wednesdays in future :3

Poe stared down at the two objects in front of him.  He glanced up and across the table, where Leia was watching him with her hands folded neatly in front of her.  Poe looked to his right at Finn, who was struggling to keep his eyes open, his cheek resting against his fist.  Poe refocused, picking up the two sample napkins that had been laid before him, turning them over in his hands and then holding them up to the light.  Han snorted somewhere behind him, but Poe was very serious when he placed the napkins down and said,

 

“Ma’am, these napkins are identical.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” Finn breathed.  “I thought I was losing my mind.”

 

“That can’t be right,” Leia muttered, taking them back and examining them.

 

Poe looked at his watch and then leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his fiancé’s forehead.  “Five more minutes, my love.  We’re almost done.”

 

Finn nodded, shifting so he could clasp tightly onto Poe’s hand.  At this angle, Finn could see his father seated in the corner of the library, silently watching them, as had become his habit during the wedding discussions.  Finn had thought Papa ignoring Poe was the worst option, but he had been proven wrong.  The silent glares, the constant threat of aggression, the never-ending cold shoulders were worst.  And Finn had no idea how to fix it.

 

“You are right,” Leia said, surprised.  The loud snort this time came from Luke’s corner, but as usual Poe ignored it.

 

“Is there anything else,” Poe asked loudly.  “Or can we finish for the night?”

 

Leia turned to look over her shoulder at her twin brother, who nodded once.  “That will be all for tonight.  Tomorrow we need to get started on the titles.  If Finn is sincere about renouncing his, there will be--,”

 

“What?”  Poe turned to Finn, who had dozed off and blinked awake at Poe’s question.  “Why are you renouncing your title?”

 

Finn bit his lip, glancing over at his father.  “It seemed like the easiest way to handle it.”

 

Poe had to take a couple deep breaths, forcing himself not to turn around at tell Luke exactly what he thought about that plan of action.  “Ma’am, I would like to speak further with Finn about that topic.  Can we postpone that conversation until Sunday?”

 

Leia looked back to Luke, who shook his head.  Leia sighed.  “I’m sure it can wait until then.”

 

“Leia,” Luke warned.

 

“Poe, I can drive you home,” Han offered quickly, stepping forward from where he had been leaning by the door.

 

Poe drew himself up and offered his hand to his fiancé.  Finn grabbed it like a lifeline and allowed Poe to pull him out of his seat.  “I will see tomorrow night, ma’am.  Have a good evening.”

 

“You as well, Mr. Dameron,” Leia replied, watching Poe lead Finn from the library.  She caught Han’s eyes, who shrugged helplessly and followed them into the entrance hall.

 

“You’re exhausted, love,” Poe whispered, cradling a hand against Finn’s cheek.  “This isn’t good for you.”

 

“I can’t leave, Poe,” Finn murmured back, his eyes sliding close and leaning his head into Poe’s hand.

 

“If you don’t think staying with me is appropriate--,”

 

“It isn’t,” Han interjected.

 

Poe glared at his friend.  “My father is there.  We would be suitably supervised.”

 

“I don’t want to push Papa too far.”

 

Poe decided telling his fiancé it was too late for that would be indelicate and so refrained.  “You could stay with Snap or Rey.  Both have said they would be happy to have you.”

 

Finn shook his head.  “Not tonight, dragon.”

 

“Is he bothering you when I’m not here?”

 

“No.”  Finn didn’t mention that his father hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, except to say the same four words every night. 

 

Poe ran his thumb across Finn’s bottom lip.  “My love, can I make an appointment for you at the studio?  I think—it might help you relax.”

 

“With you?”

 

“No, love,” Poe frowned.  “I’m not ready to try that again.”

 

Finn considered it before shrugging.  “Okay.  I can try.  Uh—my last class on Thursday is over at three.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Poe said firmly.  Ever since classes had started again Poe could watch Finn tense further and further under the pressures piling on him.  His research, new classes, the wedding, the fact that he couldn’t relax in his home—Poe hated it.  But there was nothing he could do; even if he wanted to apologize to Luke, Luke wouldn’t listen.  Poe smiled softly.  “Will I see you for lunch tomorrow?”

 

Finn froze.  He had forgotten about their Wednesday lunch.  He had too much work to do; could he take an hour off?

 

Poe’s other hand came up behind Finn to rub his shoulders.  “Calm down, love.  It’s fine.  I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I have to--,”

 

“Finn, really, it’s absolutely fine.  Focus on your classes, and I’ll handle the rest,” Poe reassured, wondering if there was any way he could convince Finn to ease his workload.  Deciding that was bound to sound hypocritical coming from him, Poe leaned in and kissed his fiancé softly.  “Sleep well, my love.”

 

“Good night, Poe.”  Finn turned to Han and asked, “Will you get him home safe?”

 

“Worrying about me,” Poe teased. 

 

“He’ll be tucked in bed before you probably,” Han grunted.  He elbowed Poe in the arm, jerking his chin over Finn’s shoulder.  Poe’s face went blank and with a final kiss on Finn’s cheek he turned and walked away, followed by Han.

 

Finn sighed, turning slowly to face his father standing behind him.

 

“I love you, angel,” Luke said.

 

Finn nodded.  “I know.  I love you, Papa.”

 

And Luke walked away towards his study, leaving Finn alone in the hall.

 

** _Two days later_ **

   

“What do you want?”

 

“Uh,” Finn shifted his weight, glancing down nervously, “Poe said—I’m you’re 4:30 appointment.”

 

Bastian crossed his arms and stared at the grand duke who was hovering in the doorway of his and Iolo’s office.  He never had much interaction with Poe’s fiancé, never had gone out of his way to speak with their resident royal.  If Bastian wasn’t manning the front desk for Jess, he would probably never see Finn, and it wouldn’t be much of a loss in his opinion.  He heard enough about his royal highness from Poe, who hardly spoke of anything else.

 

Bastian snorted, looking Finn up and down, noticing his tense shoulders and tight jaw.  “Nice try.  You can go bother Poe if you want a lesson,” he said, moving around his desk to take a seat.

 

“Poe won’t teach me.”

 

Glancing up, Bastian frowned, forehead creasing.  “Why the hell not?”

 

“He thinks he’ll kill me,” Finn sighed, looking up to meet Bastian’s eyes.

 

“How bad are you at fencing,” Bastian asked, shocked.

 

“I’m not bad at it,” Finn snapped.  “Poe is paranoid.”

 

“If you’re not bad, then you don’t need a lesson,” Bastian threw back, picking up the newspaper from that morning and making a show of opening it.  Maybe the grand duke will get the message.

 

“Poe thinks it will help me relax.”

 

“Do you always do what Poe tells you to,” Bastian asked casually, not looking away from the newspaper.

 

“No,” Finn growled.  Bastian glanced over at that.  Finn looked annoyed and was outright glaring at the seated man.  Ah, so that was the lay of the land.  Bastian smirked.

 

“Fine.  Studio Two in five minutes.  If you’re late, I’ll have you do footwork passes for an hour.”

 

Finn stood there, mouth hanging open slightly.  “Uh--,”

 

“Did you hear me?  Go.  Do you even have a rapier?”

 

“Of course I do,” Finn snarled, glaring again.

 

“Then hurry up; you’ve got four minutes.”

 

Finn scowled but turned and marched away towards the changing rooms.  Bastian rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.  He would have to pull out all the stops for this appointment.  But he figured that was why Poe had sent Finn to him; Bastian was the youngest instructor at the studio but he was also a hard-nose.  If anyone had a chance of getting the royal to unwind a bit, it was probably him.

 

*****

 

“Hey, Jess, has Finn finished with Bastian,” Poe asked as Jess walked past his office.  Poe’s 6:00 appointment had had to cancel, and he hoped he could catch Finn after his session.

 

“He should be,” Jess replied, stopping.  “He was Bastian’s last lesson of the day so they might have run over time.  I’m heading that way to give Bastian his schedule for tomorrow.  Want me to check for you?”

 

“Nah, I’ll come with you,” Poe said, standing up and pulling his suit jacket on.  “Do we have a busy day tomorrow?”

 

“Every day is busy for you,” Jess laughed.  “But it’s a typical Friday.”  She paused to glance in on Bastian’s office, but saw only Iolo working on the books.  “Is Bastian still in with Finn?”

 

Iolo smirked.  “Yes, they make quite a pair.”

 

Poe frowned slightly, wondering what that meant as he walked further down to Studio Two.  He opened the door and leaned back instinctively at the shouting he heard.

 

“That’s what I did,” Finn whined, his mask pushed back on his head.

 

“If that’s what you did I wouldn’t have to stop you to correct you,” Bastian snapped back, pushing his own facemask up and glaring at Finn.  “Now, showing me how your feet should be when you make that pass.”

 

Finn glared back while shifting his weight, his left foot going back while his right knee bent slightly.  Bastian raised an eyebrow, stepped forward, and pushed Finn hard on the shoulder.  “Hey,” Finn complained, stumbling backwards.

 

“That’s because your feet were wrong,” Bastian stated without a hint of pity.  “You weren’t grounded.”  He knelt swiftly next to Finn, grabbing Finn’s left foot and turning it to the side.  He then smacked the back of Finn’s right leg, which Finn bent in response.  “There,” he said, standing.  “That’s how you should have done it the first time, doll.”

 

“Don’t,” Finn growled, “call me ‘doll.’”

 

“Listen.  If you can do this pass without being an embarrassment to yourself and the art of fencing you can leave,” Bastian shot back, ignoring what Finn had said as he made his way to the far end of the mat.

 

“Oh.  Is the session over already,” Finn asked with a tinge of disappointment.

 

Bastian flashed a quick smile.  “Only if you can do this pass.  I have all night, doll.”

 

“Stop calling me that,” Finn hissed.

 

“Yeah?  Make me,” Bastian challenged, pulling his mask down.

 

Finn stomped to his end of the mat, pulling his own mask into place and pivoting to face Bastian.  They saluted quickly before Bastian made his approach.  Finn met him halfway, parrying the initial flurry of attacks by Bastian.  Finn set his left foot, bent low, and lunged forward, his rapier making contact with Bastian’s stomach.  The pair froze for a second before they both disengaged and stepped back.

 

“Acceptable,” Bastian declared, taking his mask off and shoving it under his left arm.

 

“Acceptable?  _Really_?”  Finn pulled his own mask off and stared at the instructor.  “I did it perfectly!”

 

“You did it acceptably,” Bastian countered, holding his right hand out.  Finn transferred his mask and rapier to his left hand before grasping Bastian’s offered hand.  “Same time next week?”

 

Finn grinned.  “Definitely.”

 

“Alright, doll.  Go get changed.  Your fiancé is waiting for you,” Bastian smirked, rubbing a hand roughly against Finn’s close-cut hair. 

 

Finn laughed, slapping Bastian’s hand away.  “You’re not going to stop calling me ‘doll,’ are you?”

 

“No, I’m not,” Bastian confirmed.  Finn shrugged and turned away, heading for the door.

 

“Poe!  How long have you been there,” Finn asked with a bright smile.  “Did you see the last pass?  I got it.”

 

“Yeah, love, I saw it,” Poe said, tightly.  “Are you—how do you feel?”

 

“Great!  Tired, but great.  You were right; fencing did help me to relax,” Finn smiled blissfully.  “I’ll meet you in your office and then we can head to dinner?”

 

“Right.”  Poe watched Finn until he turned into the changing room before rounding on Bastian with a hard glare.  Jess, who was standing next Bastian with her master schedule open, retreated quickly.  “What the hell, Bastian,” Poe growled.

 

“What?”  Bastian gave Poe a curious look.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“What the hell was that,” Poe hissed, waving his hand towards the mat.  Bastian frowned, looked back over his shoulder to check if there was something behind him.

 

“What the hell was what?  The lesson?”  Bastian squinted back at Poe.  “I thought it went well.  He’s a quick learner.”

 

“You were supposed to run him through some drills, not shout abuse at him!”

 

“Have you lost your mind?  I _was_ running him through drills.  If you don’t like my style why did you send him to me?”

 

Poe stared.  “Because you work with beginners!  I didn’t know you yelled at them!”

 

“I don’t always, but that’s what Finn responded to so I went with it,” Bastian said with a shrug.  “I don’t know why you’re upset about it.  He yelled right back.  Frankly you should be thanking me.”

 

“ _Thanking you_ ,” Poe shouted incredulously.

 

“Yes, thanking me.  If he hadn’t gotten his frustrations out on me, who do you think he would be yelling at,” Bastian asked, smiling sarcastically.  “Besides, a little ribbing never hurt anyone.”

 

“He’s under a lot of stress,” Poe said slowly.  “He doesn’t need you putting--,”

 

“Yeah, I could see that,” Bastian interrupted, jerking his head back at the mat.  “If he was wound any tighter he might snap.  That’s why you set up a session for him, right?”  Poe didn’t respond but continued to stare at Bastian with unveiled hostility.  Bastian rolled his eyes.  “Look, how about instead of defending your fiancé’s honor, you ask him if he needs it?”

 

“Are you fighting?” 

 

Everyone turned to Finn, who was dressed in his suit again, hands clenched in fists, and was looking between Poe and Bastian quickly.

 

“It’s alright, love,” Poe soothed.  “Bastian and I don’t see eye to eye on teaching methods, that’s all.”

 

Finn frowned.  “I like Bastian.  He said we have another session next week.”

 

Bastian snorted.  “Don’t worry, doll.  It’s your choice.”

 

“I don’t think it is,” Finn muttered sadly, looking down at his feet, shoulders drooping.

 

Poe made to move to his fiancé but Bastian held up a hand.  Poe shot him a confused look; Bastian held up his finger, asking for a minute.

 

“You’re stressed.  And I know the only way someone gets as stressed as that is if you’re trying to take on other people’s problems.”

 

“How do you know that,” Poe asked, brow furrowed.

 

“I’m just trying to help,” Finn muttered.

 

“Doll, how many people do you think you need to help,” Bastian asked, ignoring Poe.

 

Finn shrugged.  “Everyone.”

 

“Right.  Why?  Because you feel responsible,” Bastian asked.  Finn glanced quickly over at Poe before bowing his head and shrugging again.  “Well, I know the feeling,” Bastian continued.  “I know what it’s like to have everyone you know want something from you.  I know the pressure of trying to please everyone and nothing you do works or is good enough.  And let’s just say I didn’t handle that well—not like you are.  But one thing I learned is that you need something that’s yours—just yours.  That’s what fencing was—is—for me,” he said, raising his rapier casually before placing it against his leg again.  “I don’t know if that’s what it will be for you, but I’m happy to help you if it is.”

 

Blinking rapidly, Finn sniffed and looked up at Bastian.  “Can I—can we hug?”

 

Bastian snorted.  “Yeah, doll, but just this once.  I don’t want anyone to think this tough guy thing I have is just an act.”  Bastian had to drop his mask and rapier in order to catch Finn, who threw his arms around Bastian’s middle.  Bastian rolled his eyes and draped his own arms around Finn’s shoulders.  “God, you’re small.  Don’t they feed you?”

 

“He hasn’t been eating.”  Poe stooped down to pick up Bastian’s sword.  He caught Bastian’s eye.  “How did you figure all that out?  It took me months.”

 

Bastian shrugged.  “Maybe you’re too close to it.  Maybe I just know the signs when I see them.”

 

“So when you were yelling,” Poe asked.

 

“It gave him something to focus on, something to get mad at.  Because he would feel guilty getting mad at you or his family or whoever else is in this mess.  But me?  He can yell at me.”  Bastian paused and then added, “I don’t think you should try it, Poe.”

 

“No, I don’t think that would work,” Poe agreed.  “So, I guess I should thank you, huh?”

 

“Don’t bother.  I’m amazing; I know that.”

 

Finn laughed at that, pulling away.  “Thank you, Bastian.  That—that means a lot.”

 

“You’re welcome, doll.  I’ll tell you what,” Bastian walked over to Jess, who had been trying to blend into the wall for the entire conversation.  He took his schedule from her, tore off a corner, and took the fountain pen from her hand.  “You need a break.  So, tomorrow night at eight, you’ll meet me here,” he said, scribbling an address on the piece of paper, “and you can have a drink with someone who has no vested interest in whatever you’re going through.  We can exchange tragic life stories if you want,” he finished, holding out the scrap of paper to Finn, who took it.

 

“I don’t—can we do another night?  Tomorrow we have wedding planning and--,”

 

“We can do any night so long as you’re saying no to tomorrow because you want to and not because you think that’s what you have to say.”

 

“Finn,” Poe said, “it’s fine.  If there’s anything urgent your aunt can take care of it.”

 

Finn bit his lip.  “I can make tomorrow work.”

 

Poe grinned, reaching out to take the slip of paper from Finn.  “I should stay and help Iolo with the books, but I can meet you afterwards.”

 

Bastian laughed, snatching the address back.  “No such luck, Dameron.  I promise to return your fiancé to you safe and sound, but you’re not invited this time.”

 

“Why not,” Finn frowned.  “Poe and I haven’t been out for a drink in ages.”

 

Bastian blinked.  “That is an entirely different issue, doll.  But tomorrow night is for you to relax and complain to a stranger.  Trust me on this one.”

 

“Okay, fine,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “But I’m picking you up, Finn.  I imagine your father will be watching the clock for your curfew.”

 

“You have a curfew?  Aren’t you twenty,” Bastian asked, shocked.  Finn shot him a pained grimace.

 

“Can I add that to the list of complaints for tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, doll, you can start with that one.”

 

“Is it really necessary to call my fiancé that,” Poe groaned.

 

“If it annoys you, then yes, it is,” Bastian said with a wink at the older man.

 

*****

 

“Let me get this straight; your father disapproves of your absent fiancé, who hasn’t done a damn thing about the wedding, leaving you to plan the whole thing while you do the work of four people.  And now your father and fiancé have had a fight—which they refuse to tell you about—and your father isn’t speaking to you and Poe is trying to convince you to move out of your home.”

 

“And the curfew is annoying,” Finn added, spinning his empty glass between his hands.

 

“Oh, clearly everyone is treating you like a child,” Bastian nodded, finishing his drink with a gulp.  “I don’t know how you stand it.”

 

“Have you ever had anything like that,” Finn asked.  Bastian snorted.

 

“No, can’t say I have.  But if you want to get into that we both need drinks.”

 

“I’ll get them,” Finn offered, jumping to his feet.

 

“You sure, doll?”

 

“You bought the last two!”

 

Bastian waved his hand.  “I needed two drinks get through that story.  But sure, doll, the next round is on you.  I’ll have what you have.”

 

“Okay,” Finn nodded before turning and making his way to the bar.  Bastian turned his empty glass upside down and pushed it out of his way for someone to collect before rubbing a hand across his eyes with a sigh.

 

“How is Finn doing?”

 

Bastian dropped his hand and looked up at a man he didn’t recognize.  “Who are you and who sent you?  The overprotective dad or the overprotective fiancé?”

 

The man laughed.  “Fiancé, I’m afraid.  In my defense, he is my son, and I had to stop him from coming here himself.”

 

“Oh, I heard something about Poe’s dad turning up,” Bastian said, getting to his feet and offering his hand.  “Nice to meet you, sir.  I’m Bastian.”

 

“Please, call me Kes,” he said, gripping Bastian’s hand.  “I am sorry for interrupting.”

 

“If Finn doesn’t mind, I don’t care,” Bastian shrugged.

 

“You are a good friend of Finn’s,” Kes stated.

 

“I’ve only known him for a few hours.”

 

“He has that effect on people,” Kes smiled.  “How long did it take you to give him a name?”

 

Bastian’s jaw dropped.  “Ten minutes?  At most.”

 

“As I say, he has an effect on people.”

 

“Kes!  When did you get here?”  Finn beamed, putting down two glasses of amber liquid and throwing his arms around Kes’s neck.  “Will you join us?”

 

“I’d be happy to,” Kes said, returning the embrace.  “Let me get a drink and I’ll be back.”

 

“Do you mind,” Finn asked Bastian as Kes walked away.  “Only, you were about to tell me about your—what did you call it—tragic life story?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Bastian shook his head, taking one of the glasses of cognac.  “There’s not much to tell.  Childhood was—bad.  Adulthood is—getting better.”

 

Finn frowned and waited, but Bastian just took a sip of his drink.  “Well, I don’t remember much before the orphanage.  More than I did before, but--,”

 

“What orphanage?  I was told you were royalty,” Bastian squinted.

 

Finn laughed.  “I was in an orphanage for ten years.  Poe doesn’t talk about it.  It—upsets him.”

 

“Upsets him?  Why?”

 

“Well,” Finn drew out as Kes drew up a chair and sat between the younger men, “he says that when you love someone it’s hard to think about anything bad happening to them.”

 

Bastian nodded.  “That sounds understandable.  So, this orphanage—I take it that it was not a nice place to be.”

 

Shrugging, Finn said, “It was fine.  Not enough food, punishments were awful, but other than that--,”

 

“Ah, now we’re on familiar territory,” Bastian said with a tight smile.  “Beatings?”

 

“Yeah, but solitary was worst.”  Finn shivered and took a gulp of his drink.  “I would always take a beating over solitary.”

 

“Solitary?  Locked in the cellar,” Bastian asked emotionlessly.

 

“Cellar or the woodshed,” Finn nodded.  “I preferred the woodshed because at least I could hear birds outside.  You couldn’t hear anything in the cellar.  Phasma made sure of it.”

 

Bastian hummed.  “I would prefer the woodshed too, I think.  It was only the cellar for me.  What was the longest you were ever kept in solitary?”

 

“Four days.”  Finn tilted his head.  “Did you have solitary too?”

 

“There wasn’t a name for it, but yeah.”  Bastian stared down at his glass.  “I have to admit, doll, I didn’t think you would be someone who could understand this.”

 

“Did you grow up in an orphanage as well,” Kes asked softly.

 

“No.  My father didn’t like me,” Bastian said with a self-deprecating smile.  “Probably still doesn’t, but he left and I left and—that’s that.”

 

Finn and Kes were silent at that.  Kes reached out and laid a hand over one of Bastian’s, who allowed it.

 

“If you want, Papa would most likely adopt you,” Finn offered.  “He’s probably wishing he had a different son.”

 

“I’ll pass, doll,” Bastian snorted.  “Going from no father to _your_ father doesn’t sound like fun to me.”

 

“And I’m sure Luke doesn’t wish he had a different son,” Kes told Finn.

 

“Right,” Bastian agreed.  “In fact, it sounds like he’s very interested in keeping the son he has for as long as he can.  What are you planning to do about that?”

 

Finn shrugged helplessly.  “I have no idea.”

 

“Well, that means we need more of these,” Bastian said, shaking his empty glass.

 

“On me,” Kes insisted, standing and looking down at the children he was having drinks with.  What had become of the world?

 

*****

 

“Fyodor.”

 

Finn froze on the stairs.  He slowly turned to look over his shoulder to see his father standing just outside of his study, watching him.  “Papa?  Are you—are we speaking now?”

 

“Where have you been, Fyodor?”

 

“I told Aunt Leia.  I went out for a drink with a friend.  Kes joined us.”

 

Luke’s left eye twitched in response to that.  He crooked a finger and turned to re-enter his study.  Sighing, Finn bowed his head and followed, knowing no good would come out of this.

 

“Unless I am mistaken, as your father, it is my role to give you permission to miss dinner, not my sister’s.”

 

“Papa, I don’t need anyone’s permission to have a drink,” Finn groaned, rolling his eyes.  “I’m twenty years old and--,”

 

“And thus you know everything,” Luke snapped.  “This arrogance of yours--,”

 

“I’m not arrogant!”

 

“—that you have no doubt learned from Mr. Dameron--,”

 

“His name is Poe.”

 

“—is unbecoming of you, Fyodor.”

 

“This is the first conversation we have had in three weeks,” Finn shouted.  “And you want to talk to me about unbecoming behavior?”

 

“You can thank Mr. Dameron--,”

 

“Poe!”

 

“—for that,” Luke finished with a glare.

 

“You treat me like a child, but I’m not the Skywalker behaving like one,” Finn hissed, his fist clenching.  Luke flinched back, and Finn immediately moved forward.  “No, Papa, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean--,”

 

“Fyodor.”

 

“I’m sorry!  I’ve been—it’s been--,”

 

“Fyodor, you should leave.”

 

Finn’s jaw dropped.  “The room or--,”

 

“Good night, Fyodor,” Luke said, turning his back.

 

“Papa, I love you.  Please.  Don’t do this.”

 

Luke didn’t speak.  He listened to his son run out of the room, heard the front door slam shut, and buried his head in his hands.  This couldn’t continue.

 

*****

 

“Well, did Finn have a nice time,” Poe asked for the third time as he paced his living room.  Kes rolled his eyes.

 

“Yes, Finn enjoyed his night, and I dropped him off at him home before midnight.  There’s nothing for you to worry about, son.”

 

“Right,” Poe muttered, continuing his pacing.  “Was he happy?”

 

Kes considered that.  “I wouldn’t say he was happy.  But he wasn’t…any worse than he has been the past few weeks.”

 

Poe groaned, fisting his hair.  “Help me, Dad.  What do I do?”

 

“I suppose speaking with Luke is not an option,” Kes asked.  Poe snorted.  “Very well,” Kes sighed.  “Should I speak with him?”

 

“Dad, you’ve said maybe three words with the man.  What can you say that he will listen to?  And who the hell is calling me this late,” Poe snapped, marching into the kitchen.  “Dameron here.”

 

“It’s Snap.  Finn is here.”

 

“What?  My dad just dropped him off at home,” Poe said, glancing back at his father.  Kes pushed himself off the sofa and moved to stand next to his son.  “Why is Finn with you?”

 

“From what Karé and I can gather, Luke told him to leave.”

 

“Luke kicked Finn out of his house,” Poe repeated, staring at Kes with wide eyes.  “Finn—is he okay?  I can be there in twenty minutes.”

 

“He cried himself to sleep,” Snap answered gruffly.  “I never saw anything like it.”

 

“Is he hurt?”

 

“No, Poe,” Snap said firmly.  “Finn isn’t injured.  You can come here if you want, but at this point it might be best to let him rest.”

 

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Poe muttered, running a hand through his hair.  “Okay.  Okay.  Uh, I’ll come by tomorrow morning.  If not me, my dad will be there.”

 

“What do you mean ‘if not you,’” Snap asked suspiciously.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Poe dismissed.  “Thank you for being there for Finn.  I appreciate it.”

 

“I didn’t do it for you, Poe.  You’re not the only one who worries about him.”

 

“I know, Snap.  Thank you.  Have a good night.”

 

“You too, Poe.”

 

Poe hung up the telephone and stood, staring blankly at the device.  Kes rubbed slow circles across his son’s tense back.  “Son.  Poe, what are you thinking?”

 

“This ends tonight,” Poe said slowly.  He straightened and went to his icebox, pulling out the new bottle of vodka he had gotten from Maz earlier that evening.  Poe then left the kitchen, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of the sofa.

 

“Are you--,”

 

“If you haven’t heard from me by ten tomorrow, can you please go to Snap’s and check on Finn?  If you can, try and convince him to go out for the day,” Poe said quickly, pulling on his jacket.  “I’ll leave you some money here, with my keys.  Take him somewhere, for me.”

 

“Poe, I don’t know what you think is about to happen, but--,”

 

“All I know is I’m not facing Finn until this has been resolved,” Poe interrupted.  “I’ll talk to you later, Dad.”

 

*****

 

Luke stared at the empty glass in his hand.  Why had he said that?  Fyodor hadn’t deserved that.  He had even been home before midnight.  But no.  Luke couldn’t let it be.  He couldn’t take his anger out on that fool of a fiancé Fyodor had found for himself, so he had done the next best thing.  Fyodor had no right to say that.  Right?  Children shouldn’t speak to their parents like that.  Even if Luke hadn’t been much of a parent the last week.  Last few weeks.  Last month, maybe more.

 

Suddenly his glass was pulled from his hand.  Luke blinked, looking up at the shadow-figure standing above him.  His glass was thrust back into his grasp, and Luke brought it to his nose and sniffed.  Vodka?  He hadn’t had vodka in over a decade.  The figure banged a bottle onto the table beside him before dropping into the seat across from Luke and staring at him.  Luke rubbed his eyes and squinted.  He was still there, the small light casting shadows under his eyes and cheekbones, staring across at Luke, holding another glass.

 

“How did you get here,” Luke asked in wonder.

 

“I jumped the fence and climbed in Han’s bedroom window,” Poe replied.

 

“Do you do that often?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Because the thought of you coming to my apartment seemed far-fetched,” Poe answered.  He reached out and clinked their glasses together.  “I have a bottle of vodka and all the time in the world.  Neither of us are leaving this room until this is settled.”

 

Luke blinked, glanced down at his glass, and heaved a sigh.  “To…Finn?”

 

Poe nodded.  “To Fyodor.”  And the two men drained their first glass of vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the fantastic reactions on the last chapter! It was so amazing to read those comments and see the positive feedback! You are all wonderful human beings!


	10. Chapter 9: September, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. So I have been battling a migraine all day, but I was getting this chapter up today come hell or high water. So I apologize for any obvious errors; I will proofread again post-headache :)

Leia stood in the hallway, arms crossed, in her eyebrows pinched together as she frowned.  She had already imagined and rejected several reasons for why Han was asleep in a chair pushed against Luke’s study door in his nightshirt.  Nothing had presented itself as a plausible explanation.  In fact, when Artú had brought the matter to her attention over her morning tea, along with the fact that neither Luke nor Finn had slept in their rooms the night before, Leia could offer no insight or instruction beyond a vague, “I will see to it.  Thank you.”

 

Leia spared another moment to wonder again what could possibly be going on, before reaching out and twisting Han’s ear sharply and effectively.

 

“What in God’s name--,” Han yelped, shooting to his feet.

 

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask you,” Leia interrupted, placing her hands on her hips.  Han’s face went from red to sheepish in seconds as he rubbed out the inevitable kinks in his neck from sleeping in a chair.  “I suppose Luke and Finn are on the other side of the door?”

 

“Luke and Poe,” Han answered, stretching his arms behind his back.

 

“Poe?  Poe Dameron?”

 

“Lord help me if there’s another Poe,” Han grunted.

 

“Poe is in there with _Luke_ ,” Leia asked in shock.  Han grimaced and nodded.  “For how long?”

 

“What time is it?”  Han squinted at the grandfather clock down the hall.  It was nearly ten in the morning.  “About nine hours.”

 

“Are they still alive?”

 

Han leaned back, pressing his ear against the door.  “I hear voices.  They stopped yelling around three in the morning.  I must have fallen asleep after that.”

 

“Where is Finn?”  Leia’s eyes narrowed when Han hesitated.  “Han Solo.  Where is my nephew?”

 

“Well, he’s at Snap’s…”

 

“Why isn’t he here, General Solo?”

 

“Well, your majesty, you see…”

 

*****

 

Finn hunkered down outside the partially closed door of Snap’s parlor.  When he had woken up in a guestroom at Snap’s, it taken him a few moments to remember why he was there.  Once he did Finn felt that he may have over-reacted the night before.  Maybe Papa hadn’t meant for him to leave the house.  In fact, Finn had made his way down the stairs with every intention of apologizing to Snap and Karé for imposing and then catching a taxi back home to speak with his father.  The plans had changed once he started listening to the conversation already underway in the parlor.

 

“While Poe is speaking with Luke, I think we should take Finn out of Paris,” came Rey’s voice.  When had Rey come here?

 

“I agree,” Karé answered.  “He needs to get away from everything that's causing him stress.”

 

“Where should we take him,” Snap asked.

 

“Why don’t we ask Finn what he would like to do,” Kes interjected.  Finn smiled tightly from his hiding spot.  At least Kes was in his corner.

 

“I think we should devise a plan, because Finn has had to make enough decisions lately,” Rey said.  Finn frowned at that.  Finn didn’t think he had made a single decision for himself in months; all he had done was whatever someone else needed him to do.  Plan the wedding.  Do those translations.  Don’t worry Poe.  Don’t anger Papa.  Don’t sit like that.  Don’t break curfew.  When was the last time he had done anything he wanted to do?

 

Mind made up, Finn eased himself off the floor and hurried over to the telephone in the front hall.  He pulled a torn piece of paper out of his pocket and spun the rotary to dial the unfamiliar number.  It took a few rings before a groggy voice answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Bastian?  This is Finn.  Did I wake you?”

 

It sounded like Bastian snorted on the other end, but it could have been static.  “Don’t worry about it, doll.  I’m lazy on my days off.  Why are you whispering?”

 

“I don’t want Snap to hear me.”

 

“Ah.  Right.  Any reason for that or…?”

 

“Well, a lot happened last night after we parted ways,” Finn sighed.  “You mentioned there’s a festival of some kind happening?”

 

Bastian hummed.  “Yeah, the apple harvest festival.  Happens every year around this time.  You want to go?”

 

“Yes.  And, if you don’t mind, I would like you to come with me,” Finn said definitely.

 

There was a small pause on the other end.  “Doll, you’ve got to give me something here.  What’s your plan?  Because if I’m going to have Dameron out for my blood I need to make plans to leave the country.”

 

“What?  Why would he—no, I just want to go to a festival.  I’ve never been to one.  Anyway, it sounds like Poe has other plans for the day.  I’m going to invite Kes though.”

 

“Well, that should be fine.  It’s not like we would elope with Poe’s father,” Bastian muttered.

 

“Elope?  What are you talking about?”

 

“Doll, trust me on this one.  If you and I up and vanished the first thing Dameron would think is that I either kidnapped you or we’re running away to get married.”

 

Finn’s nose wrinkled.  “That’s terrible.”

 

“Well, I admit I’m not much of a catch, but Dameron’s strength isn’t logic when it comes to you.”

 

Finn groaned.  “I’ve noticed that recently.  So, will you come with me?”

 

“Yeah, doll.  I’m in.  How are we getting there?”

 

“I’ll take care of that,” Finn grinned, liking how that sounded when he was the one saying it.  Bastian laughed on the other end.

 

“Alright, doll.  It’s your day.  Should I meet you somewhere?”

 

“Give me your address.  I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes, if that’s alright?”

 

“Fine with me, doll.”

 

*****

 

“Surrender,” Luke hissed.

 

“Never,” Poe grunted back, throwing all his weight as he shoved against Luke, where their rapiers were clashed together.  Luke stumbled back but recovered quickly and quickly blocked Poe’s attack.  Poe drew back and the pair circled each other.

 

“You may as well lay down your sword now,” Luke said, almost casually.  “I’ve been doing this since before you were born.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you’re better; that just means you’re old,” Poe smirked back.

 

Luke barked a laugh.  “You have no respect.”

 

“Not even a little,” Poe replied with a smile.

 

“Very well,” Luke nodded before lunging forward suddenly, taking Poe by surprised.  Poe parried the initial charge, hurrying backwards as Luke’s rapier became a blur of steel.  Poe sidestepped, hoping to land a quick hit on Luke’s flank before he had a chance to turn.  Luke, however, pivoted smoothly, almost as if he had expected it, and deflected Poe’s attack with enough strength that the rapier in Poe’s hand slid out of his grasp.  Poe gasped, freezing.  Luke smirked, flicking Poe’s nose with the end of his rapier.  Poe winced instinctively before touching his nose in surprise.

 

“But I thought--,”

 

“I gave you the real rapier,” Luke said easily, running his hand along the dulled blade of his practice sword.

 

“Why,” Poe blinked.

 

“Oh, simple child, did you truly believe you would get a hit on me?”

 

Poe rolled his eyes.  “Best two out of three?”

 

“If you insist,” Luke said with a small shrug, walking to his desk and draining the rest of the brandy in his glass.  “We should eat something at some point.”

 

“I need coffee,” Poe agreed, lifting his own empty glass and frowning.  “And maybe breakfast.”

 

“Coffee sounds splendid,” Luke nodded.  “There, we agreed on that.”

 

“The tenth agreement we’ve had in…over nine hours,” Poe snorted. 

 

Luke frowned.  “That is still more than we have had before tonight.”

 

“Yeah, I think that was the problem,” Poe sighed.  “I don’t understand.  Finn and Dad have known each other for a month, and they are having drinks together and…talking, and you and I—before last night the only things we ever agreed on was a church wedding and the announcement.”

 

“And Fyodor,” Luke added.

 

“Did we?”  Poe squinted at Luke.  “I don’t think we ever agreed on Finn.”

 

“'Finn' is such an undignified name,” Luke mumbled.

 

“My apologies, but I was more concerned with your son not calling himself Fish--,”

 

“He has never been very skilled when it came to naming things,” Luke said with a small smile.  “His first pony he called ‘Pony’ for a month before I told him it was confusing for the grooms.”

 

“So, what did he change the name to,” Poe asked, coming to lean on the desk next to Luke.  After the first bout of arguments and yelling had passes, Luke had settled in to sharing stories of Finn’s childhood.  Poe had enjoyed it.

 

Luke smirked.  “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

 

“Oh come on!  You have to,” Poe whined, bumping his should against Luke’s.

 

“He changed Pony’s name to Po.”

 

Poe’s mouth dropped open and Luke threw back his head and laughed heartily, shoulders shaking.  “You’re lying,” Poe stated.

 

“I am being perfectly serious.  I assume he does not remember it, but I have always found it amusing.”

 

“Good God,” Poe mumbled, dragging a hand down his face.  “He better not remember that.”

 

“Do you think he will ever remember everything,” Luke asked sincerely.  Poe shrugged.

 

“I have no idea.  I hope, for his sake, that he does.  His only childhood memories shouldn’t be of that damn orphanage,” Poe finished with a growl.

 

Luke turned his head to meet Poe’s eyes with his own.  “On that, we also agree.”

 

*****

 

Kes heaved another sigh from his spot behind the sofa in Snap’s parlor.  Snap, Karé, and Rey had been arguing over where they should take Finn to for nearly thirty minutes.  Kes was not participating in the conversation because he believed it was futile without the subject present, and so far, Finn had been surprisingly absent.  If anyone had earned the right to sleep as late as he wanted to, it was Finn.  Still, Kes wondered if he should check on him.

 

Movement in the mirror over the fireplace caught Kes’s attention, and he looked up.  The mirror showed the parlor’s door behind him, where Finn was currently standing.  Finn held a finger to his lips, requesting silence, before gesturing for Kes to come out into the hall.  Kes glanced over at the other occupants of the parlor, but they were fully engaged in their discussion and had not noticed anything.  Kes withdrew quickly and quietly.  Closing the door behind him, Kes felt his arm grasped and he was pulled further into the hallway.

 

“How are you, little one?”

 

“I’ve been better and I’ve been worse,” Finn answered truthfully, and Kes was reminded of the orphanage discussion the night before.  “I am going to an apple harvest festival today, and I would like you to come with me, if you don’t have other plans.”

 

Kes blinked.  “I’d be happy to join you.  Should I tell the others--,”

 

“I wrote notes,” Finn said, gesturing to the table where the telephone was.  Kes approached and scanned over the folded pages addressed ‘To Poe,’ ‘To Papa,’ and ‘To Whom It May Concern.’

 

“You’ve been very thorough,” Kes nodded.  “Would you mind if I leave my own for my son?”

 

“Of course you can,” Finn said, cracking a small smile.  “I’ll go check if the car is here yet.”

 

“Car,” Kes asked.

 

“I’m going to drive,” Finn informed him, before turning and making his way to the front door. 

 

Kes closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  He picked up the pen and the pad of stationary next to the telephone and quickly scribbled:

 

_Son,_

_Finn is not pleased with any of you._

_I’m going with him to an apple festival.  I don’t know where._

_I will see you tonight._

_Be prepared to apologize._

_KD_

“The car is here.  Are you ready to go?”

 

“Yes, little one,” Kes answered, tearing off the sheet and folding it, writing Poe’s name quickly on the back.  “Lead the way.”

 

“Oh, we’re picking up Bastian on the way,” Finn added, looking considerably happier once they were out in the sunlight and Finn had closed the door behind him. 

 

“As you wish,” Kes replied absentmindedly, approaching the bright red car parked at the curb.  “Is this yours, little one?”

 

“No, Maz lent it to me for the day,” Finn answered, sliding into the driver’s seat.  “Has Poe told you about Maz,” he asked as Kes climbed into the passenger side.

 

“He has told me she supplies him with illegal vodka,” Kes said, shooting a slightly concerned look in Finn’s direction.

 

Finn noticed and sighed.  “I know.  I’m not really—acting like myself right now.”

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, little one.”

 

“It’s just—I want to do this, Kes.  And I haven’t done anything I’ve wanted to do in I don’t know how long.”

 

Kes scanned Finn’s open face, which was begging him in all but words for some sign of acceptance.  Kes nodded once.  “Well, what are we waiting for then?”

 

“Really?”

 

Finn watched as a familiar look came over Kes’s face.  A grin just a bit too wide, a wild glint in the eyes, eyebrows raising—yes, Finn knew that look.  “Truly, little one.”

 

*****

 

“Luke Anakin Alexander Gregor Skywalker!”

 

“Oh God,” Luke muttered, as the study door flew open and Leia marched in.  If Poe didn’t know better. he would say Luke stepped back to hide behind him.

 

“You want to ignore Mr. Dameron, that’s one thing.  You want to act like a child towards your son, that’s another.  But now you’ve thrown your son from his home, and he’s gone!”

 

“In my defense,” Luke said sheepishly around Poe, “I never thought he would leave the house.”

 

“ _You never thought_ —have you met your son,” Leia shouted, throwing her arms up.  “Of course he left!  We should be thankful he spent the night at Wexley’s or he might be halfway to England by now.”

 

“If he put his mind to it, Finn would be in Ireland by now if that’s where he wanted to be,” Poe said honestly.  Leia’s glare shot from her brother to Poe so quickly that Poe took a step back, right into Luke’s chest.

 

“That is a very blasé attitude to take when your fiancé has disappeared,” Leia scolded.

 

“I asked my dad to take Finn out for the day,” Poe answered, still flinching back.  He jerked in surprise as a hand came to rest between his shoulders and Luke stepped up beside him.

 

“Did you indeed,” Leia asked with a wide smile that did not reach her eyes.  Luke inhaled sharply.  “Well, Poe, it may interest you to know that your father was against the idea of taking Finn out for the day.  Rey tells me Kes was adamant.”

 

“What,” Poe asked surprised.  “Wait.  Did Finn leave by himself?”

 

“Kes is also missing, and the note Finn left indicates that he took someone named Bastian with him,” Leia answered, drawing herself up.  “He failed to mention where they were going.”

 

“Who is this Bastian,” Luke asked.

 

“He works at the studio,” Poe mumbled, rubbing his eyes.  “He’s…fine.  I’m not particularly pleased with him at the moment, but he’ll watch out for Finn.”

 

“Why are you not pleased with him,” Luke asked with genuine curiosity.

 

“He calls Finn ‘doll,’” Poe muttered.

 

“Ah.  And you are upset because that is a better name for him than ‘Finn’?”

 

“Look, Luke,” Poe spun on his heel.  “Finn could be called ‘Carpet’ and he would still be the most wonderful man in the world so stop—you’re laughing at me.”

 

Luke cackled.  Leia heaved a sigh.  “My brother is teasing you, Poe.  You may live to miss the days when he ignored you.”

 

“Leia,” Luke gasped.  “Here I am, making an effort--,”

 

“A small effort after you already drove your son to desperate measures,” Leia interrupted.

 

Luke’s smile fell quickly.  “I will do my best to mend things with Fyo—Finn.”

 

Poe sent a small smile towards Luke, who returned it.

 

“That’s all very well, but we need to find him first,” Leia said, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes.  “Now, both of you will go and make yourselves presentable.  After that you will go to Wexley’s and read the notes that were left for you--,”

 

“That’s my Finn,” Poe said fondly. 

 

“—and then you will find him and bring him home.”

 

*****

 

“Wow,” Finn breathed, watching a man on tall stilts walk by.  “I want to try that.”

 

Bastian snorted.  “Sure, doll.  Just don’t break your neck,” he said, munching on a lady apple.

 

“I must say,” Kes mumbled around a mouthful of apple, “these are remarkably good.”

 

“Best apples in France,” Bastian answered easily, tossing the core behind him.

 

“Do you think someone will let me,” Finn asked, turning to the two behind him.

 

Kes swallowed.  “Oh.  You were being earnest about that?”

 

“Of course!  I’ve never been on stilts before,” Finn replied with a huge grin.

 

“Relax, Kes.  I can ask someone for you, doll,” Bastian offered.

 

“No, I can to it,” Finn said with a bright smile before hurrying off after the stilts performer.

 

Kes’s jaw dropped, watching Finn leave.  Bastian clapped a hand on Kes’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  There’s a pretty good chance that they will politely tell him no.”

 

“I have yet to see anyone tell Finn no,” Kes said before shrugging.  “Do you think he’s enjoying himself?”

 

“I’m enjoying the fact that, for once, I’m not the one in trouble,” Bastian replied, looking pleased.

 

“Should we speak with him?  Perhaps if he talks to us about--,”

 

“Kes.  Let me tell you what I’ve learned from every human relationship I have ever been a part of: if someone isn’t mad at you, don’t go out of your way to make them mad at you.”

 

Kes stared at the young man who was smiling crookedly but cheerfully.  “You’re too young.”

 

Bastian frowned.  “Too young for what?”

 

“To be saying that to me.”

 

Suddenly cheering broke out behind them, and they turned to see Finn march past them on meter-high stilts, his arms thrown wide for balanace and his face beaming.  Kes and Bastian exchanged wide-eyes looks before Bastian hastily said, “I’ll get him,” and ran off after Finn.

 

Kes closed his eyes and took slow, measured breaths.  He was a colonel, for God’s sake; he should be able to handle two children at an apple festival.  If Finn went and broke his legs—or worse, his neck—what exactly would he tell Poe?  He wouldn’t be able to face his son; he and Bastian would have to catch the first ship out.

 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Kes shouted as his arm was grabbed.

 

“Sorry, Dad,” Poe grimaced.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Kes rubbed a hand over his heart.  “I’m too old for this, son.”

 

“I know how that feels.”  Luke approached almost shyly.  “I’m afraid I made a terrible impression, Colonel Dameron.  I hope we can move forward.”

 

Kes cleared his throat.  This was the Emperor of Russia.  What had the world come to?  But he held out his hand.  “I’m certain we can.  Please, call me Kes.”

 

“Luke,” he replied, taking Kes’s hand.

 

“Well, this is uncomfortable,” Poe said cheerfully, clapping his hands together.  “Where is Finn?”

 

“Did you get my note,” Kes asked cautiously.

 

“Yes, I did.  Thank you for the advice.  I am fully prepared to apologize for…something,” Poe answered.  “I also got Finn’s note, telling me where you were and reassuring me that he is not eloping with Bastian.  Was that a possibility?”

 

“I am still trying to understand _this_ future son-in-law,” Luke muttered. 

 

“What are you talking about,” Kes asked, frowning.

 

Poe shrugged.  “I have no idea.  His note was both worrying and comforting.”

 

“Well,” Kes drew out, “I don’t know anything about that but--,”

 

“And I’m telling you I don’t care,” Bastian scowled, dragging Finn behind him, with the stilts under his arm.  “You walked into a tree, doll.”

 

“But I was doing well until then,” Finn whined.

 

“Yeah, doll, you were fantastic, and now you’re returning the stilts and we’re going to go eat chocolate.”

 

“Fine,” Finn conceded, following behind Bastian.  Neither of them noticed Kes, Poe, and Luke watching them pass.

 

“I take it that is Bastian, who my son is not eloping with,” Luke said casually.

 

“Never mind that, was Finn walking on stilts?”

 

“He was quite good,” Kes smiled.  “Until he walked into a tree apparently.”

 

Poe nodded slowly.  “Alright.  That’s not the strangest thing that has happened to me today; I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 

“Is it safe to assume the two of you have reached an accord,” Kes asked Luke.

 

“We have agreed to make more of an effort to understand each other,” Luke replied diplomatically.

 

“We agreed to limit ourselves to one argument a month,” Poe said more honestly.

 

“Small steps,” Luke smiled.

 

Kes raised an eyebrow and Poe shrugged.  “I know it’s not the best, but we were ordered to find Finn.  So here we are.”

 

“Here you are,” Kes repeated.  “Neither of you know what you’re walking in to, do you?”

 

Before Poe could ask his father what exactly he meant by that, Bastian reappeared next to Kes.

 

“Kes, Finn wants to walk the tightrope and I have no good reason why he shouldn’t—merde,” he cursed, noticing Poe and Luke.  “On second thought--,”

 

“I have a great deal about you, Bastian.  I’m Finn’s father,” Luke smiled, offering his hand.  Bastian blinked, looking between the outstretched hand and Luke’s face.

 

“It’s an honor to meet, sir, but it's more than my life’s worth to take your hand right now.”

 

“What do you mean,” Poe asked.

 

Bastian shook his head.  “Finn might kill me.”

 

“Bastian, Claire—the tightrope performer—said she would let me but she said--,” Finn fell silent staring at Poe and Luke.  The group stood as an island of silence as others wandered through the tents and stalls of the festival.

 

“Well,” Bastian cleared his throat, “I’ll leave you to discuss--,”

 

“Stay,” Finn ordered, not taking his eyes off Poe.  Bastian bowed his head but didn’t move to leave.  “How are you, Poe?”

 

Poe smiled a bit nervously.  “I’m doing well, thank you.  It was a long night, but--,”

 

“Did you have a long night?  How distressing for you,” Finn interrupted with a sharp smile.  “You decided the time had come to speak with my father?”

 

“Well, yes.”  Poe glanced over at Kes.  “Is that what I should apologize for?  I thought you would pleased.”

 

“Of course you did,” Finn grinned even while his eyes narrowed to a glare.  “Because once you spoke with Papa, everything would be perfect, right?”

 

Poe looked at his father, who just crossed his arms and jerked his head towards Finn.  “Maybe not perfect, but I thought—it would be better than it has been.”

 

“Because the only people affected by this were you and Papa.”

 

Bastian inhaled sharply through his teeth.  “Here we go.”

 

“Angel, perhaps we should speak privately,” Luke suggested kindly.

 

Finn’s glare shifted to his father.  “Papa, you understand that you don’t have a leg to stand on, don’t you?  You told me to leave.”

 

“That was wrong of me, and I apologize, angel.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “You’re sorry until the next time it happens.”

 

“It will never happen again,” Luke said firmly.

 

“How can I be sure?  How do I know the next time you and Poe fight over God knows what I won’t be the one caught in the cross fire until one of you gets frustrated enough to take it out on me?”

 

“Because your father and I have talked, and we will do everything we can to keep it from reaching that point again,” Poe vowed, reaching out for Finn, who stepped back towards Kes with a shake of his head.  “My love--,”

 

“I should have been there,” Finn stated.  “Any discussion should have included me, because you weren’t hurting each other.  You were hurting me, and you were hurting me for months.  And you decided to resolve it without me.  And now you both come here, acting as if I should be thankful that you won’t hurt me anymore when neither of you should have in the first place!”

 

“If you’re wondering,” Kes interjected softly, “that is what you should be apologizing for, son.”

 

“I love you,” Finn continued, his voice catching.  “I love you both so much.  I have done everything I could to avoid hurting either of you.  Why couldn’t you do the same for me?”

 

Poe opened and closed his mouth.  “Oh.  Finn.  Love, you know—you have to know I would never want to hurt you.”

 

“Well, you did,” Finn looked Poe in the eye.  “And I want to believe you won’t do it again, but how can I when I don’t even know what you and Papa have agreed on?”

 

“I can—we can tell you,” Poe said desperately, lunging forward to grab Finn’s shoulders.  “Please.  I’m so sorry, my love, my _heart_.  What can I do?  Tell me how I can fix this; I’ll do anything.”

 

Finn shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know, Poe.”

 

Kes caught Bastian’s eye and jerked his head to indicate they should leave.  Bastian nodded once, turning to leave and then pausing.  He bit his lip before saying over his shoulder, “It’s none of my business, but--,”

 

Poe huffed.  “What is it, Bastian?”

 

“You used to annoy the hell out of me with how you never talked about anything but Finn,” Bastian said slowly.  “There’s something you always said, Dameron.  I don’t know if you even noticed how often you said it.”

 

“What was it,” Finn prompted, sniffing.

 

“You always said being in love with Finn was the best decision you never had to make,” Bastian continued, “because every time you saw him you fell in love all over again.  And I thought you were being an idiot.  But maybe you should have been telling Finn that, instead of your colleagues.”  Bastian shrugged.  “But what do I know, right?”

 

Bastian shoved his hand in his trouser pockets and started walking away, Kes falling into step next to him.  “You’re a good man,” Kes said softly.

 

“You’re a terrible judge of character,” Bastian replied easily.  “Should we get something to drink while we wait?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for the amazing comments and kudos on the last chapter! They made my week so much brighter :)


	11. Chapter 10: October, Part One

“Given that this is your wedding--,”

 

“Oh no, you don’t,” Poe turned and pointed his finger at Luke.  “You are in just as much trouble as I am.”

 

Luke sighed.  “I was never much use when it came to planning balls.  Leia always--,”

 

“Well, both Leia and Finn have left us to decide this,” Poe said, turning back to face the five options spread across the long side table of the parlor.  “So, we will decide this.  Which one do you like the best?”

 

“Do you find that they all look the same?”

 

Poe snorted.  “Yes.  Well, that one has more of those green leaves than the others.”

 

“Ivy,” Luke murmured, approaching the first centerpiece.  “Do you like ivy?”

 

“I never formed an opinion of it,” Poe shrugged, moving to stand in front of the second centerpiece option.  “This one has more of those little white flowers in it.  I think I prefer those over the ivy.”

 

“In that case,” Luke walked around to the fourth option, “this one is almost entirely small white flowers.  Along with what I think are roses of some variety.”

 

“That one is nice,” Poe nodded, coming to stand next to Luke.  “Should we go with this one?”

 

“If you like,” Luke said in a copacetic manner.  “Unless this last one is more your taste.”

 

Poe frowned at the tallest and most exaggerated of the options.  “No, that one is ridiculous.”

 

Luke barked a laugh.  “Well, we can’t have that.”

 

“Hello, Poe, Papa,” Finn called, strolling into the parlor.  “How are the flowers coming?”

 

“Good evening, my love,” Poe answered, holding out his hand to his fiancé, who approached quickly and slid neatly against Poe’s side.  Poe’s arm came to rest around Finn’s waist.  “Your father and I tentatively choose this one, unless you hate it.”

 

Finn glanced down the row.  “I think this is the best one.  Thank you for not choosing that one.”

 

“Poe anointed that one as ‘ridiculous,’” Luke said.  “How was your day, angel?”

 

“Good.  Classes were fine.  My fencing lesson went well.  I didn’t see you after,” Finn said, looking over at Poe.  “Snap said you left early.”

 

“I did.  Dad was having trouble with the stove again.  I had to run and make sure he didn’t blow up the apartment.”

 

“I should help him,” Finn muttered, mostly to himself.

 

“He’ll never learn if we coddle him,” Poe said without a hint of pity.

 

“What a manner to speak of your father,” Luke censored.

 

“It’s how he spoke to me, and I turned out fine,” Poe shrugged.

 

“That remains to be seen,” Luke said seriously, even though the corners of his eyes wrinkled with suppressed mirth.

 

“Very funny, Luke,” Poe rolled his eyes.

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you two,” Finn said, watching them.

 

“I’m sorry, angel,” Luke murmured.  “Did you have a nice evening with Rey and Bastian?”

 

“I did.  Rey makes Bastian nervous; it’s hilarious to watch.”

 

“Oh, I’m teasing him so much about that tomorrow,” Poe smirked.

 

“Of course you are.”  Finn bit his lip.  “If you don’t mind, there’s something I’d like to talk to both of you about.”

 

Poe and Luke exchanged a quick glance.

 

“Of course, angel.”

 

“If you have decided to give up school and become a tightrope walker, I fully support your decision,” Poe grinned.

 

“You _do_ ,” Luke asked, shocked.

 

“I happen to be a supportive fiancé,” Poe answered.  “At least, I’m trying to be.”

 

“You are,” Finn soothed, leaning in to kiss Poe on the cheek.  “And I thank you for your support of my secret dream of being a tightrope walker, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

 

“Let’s take a seat,” Luke said, moving towards an armchair by the fireplace, pausing to press a quick kiss to Finn’s forehead.  Poe and Finn followed, both sitting down on the sofa.  “Now then, what is on your mind, angel?”

 

“Well,” Finn drew out, “I know neither of you will be thrilled about this,” Luke and Poe looked at each other over Finn’s head, “but I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t want to get married and move forward in my life without doing this.”

 

“Finn, please tell us,” Poe begged.  “Your father and I are about to have a conniption.”

 

Finn huffed a laugh, glancing down at his hands.  “I want to speak to Ben.”

 

Poe felt himself tense.  His first instinct was to state unequivocally that he would rather die than put Finn in the same room as his homicidal cousin.  The drowning attempts, the scars that Poe wished he could take away, the loss of an entire decade of life—no, Ben would never, ever have the chance to hurt Finn again.  Poe would make sure of that.

 

“Poe,” came a soft whisper from Finn, “you’re—I can’t breathe.”

 

Poe blinked, coming back to himself.  At some point, he had pulled Finn into his lap and had wrapped his arms around him like a snake.  Blushing, Poe relaxed his grip, glancing over at Luke apologetically.  Luke, however, was staring into the distance, unaware of Poe’s hold on his son.

 

“I’m sorry, my love,” Poe said in a low voice.  “I—that was a—a surprise.”

 

“I know,” Finn answered, biting his lip again.  He eased off Poe’s lap, but made a point to keep Poe’s arm around him.  Then Finn reached out and took Luke’s hand.  “Papa.  Papa, it will be alright.  He can’t hurt me.”

 

Luke frowned, turning slightly to face his son.  He gripped Finn’s hand and exhaled heavily.  “Angel.  What could you possibly have to say to him?”

 

“I—he mentioned something, the last time.”  Finn saw Poe and his father flinch at the mention of his last interaction with Ben.  “I never got the chance to answer him.”

 

“Finn, you don’t owe him anything,” Poe said slowly.  “You understand that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Finn agreed readily.  “I’m not—I don’t want to do this for him.  But I would like to get this off my chest before—before… Everything is getting better, and I want to move forward completely.”

 

Luke sighed, bowing his head.  After a moment, he murmured, “Have you spoken to Leia about this?”

 

“Yes.  She—she said she could have my name put on the list so I could visit.  She said I could go as soon as next week,” Finn said softly.

 

Poe huffed.  “Next week.  O-okay, my love.  Do you,” Poe paused, closing his eyes for a moment, “do you want—how would you like to do this, love?”

 

“I,” Finn began and then gulped.  “Papa, I don’t think you should come.  I think,” Finn hurried on despite Luke’s gutted look, “if you come, Ben won’t—he won’t listen to anything I have to say.”

 

Luke frowned, blinking away the tears that threatened.  Of course, his son would be perfectly safe.  But he had been perfectly safe every time before—every single time Ben had struck in his home, where he thought he could protect his son.  And he hadn’t.  He couldn’t.  Not once.

 

“Luke,” Poe said, drawing the dowager emperor’s attention.  Luke glanced over, noticed the heart wrenching expression on his son’s face, the tight grip he had on both of Luke’s hands.  Poe still had an arm around Finn’s waist as he watched Luke.  “Luke, Finn will be okay.  It won’t—it _can’t_ be like last time.”

 

“Will you—angel, can you--,”

 

Finn nodded.  “If Poe can, I would—I want him to come with me.”

 

“Of course, love,” Poe said, placing a soft kiss behind Finn’s ear.  “I’m all yours, whenever you need me.”    

 

** _Ten days later_ **

 

“Poe, you don’t have to do this.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You can drop me off and then go into Fresnes because that’s absolutely fine.”

 

“I know.  I won’t but I know.”

 

Finn heaved a sigh and tilted his head back to watch the clouds pass by overhead.  That morning Finn and Poe had spent half an hour trying to force the roof of Rey’s car to close to no avail.  Luckily for them this was the mildest October in memory, and so the trip hadn’t been put off.  Or luckily for Finn; Poe wouldn’t mind if this trip never happened.  But this was something Finn felt strongly about and Poe wasn’t about to let him do this alone.

 

“He probably won’t even talk to me.  Aunt Leia says he hasn’t spoken to her half the times she’s visited,” Finn said over the wind, breaking the silence again.

 

“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be reassuring you,” Poe called back, turning the car off the main road and onto a narrower path through a large field.  Poe slowed down and shifted gears as he noticed the unevenness of the road.  He drove on.

 

“Thank you,” Finn said after a moment.  “You really didn’t have to do this.

 

Poe glanced over at his fiancé, who was doing an impressive job of portraying nonchalance.  It didn’t fool Poe for a second.

 

“You know you don’t have to do this either, right?  It’s not—it doesn’t make—no one would think any less of you, if you didn’t go through with this.”

 

Finn turned completely to study Poe, who kept his eyes steadily on the road.  He took a deep breath, noticed his hands had begun to shake, and exhaled tiredly.  “I want to.  I’m nervous but—he can’t drown me while he’s in prison, Poe.”

 

“Okay.”  Poe watched as a tall stone and brick wall came into sight.  “We’re nearly there.”

 

Finn nodded, willing his hands to stop trembling.  If he went in there like this he wouldn’t last a second.  Never let them see your weakness.  That was one piece of advice his cousin had given him a long time ago.  When they were different people.  Finn inhaled, held his breath for a count of three, and exhaled.  There was nothing to be nervous about; he probably wouldn’t even speak to Finn.     

 

At the gateway a guard approached the car, and Poe gave his and Finn’s names and identification papers.  After examining them, the guard handed them back and directed Poe to park in a dirt patch to the right of the gate: no cars were allowed inside the prison.  Finn climbed out slowly after Poe parked, slowly enough that Poe went around and took Finn’s hand.

 

“I’ll be with you the entire time.  He can’t hurt you, my love.”

 

Finn nodded in passive agreement.  From what he remembered Ben hadn’t needed swords and large bodies of water to hurt Finn if he wanted to.  But that wouldn’t be comforting for Poe to hear so Finn kept it to himself.

 

The guard let them enter into the prison through a thick metal door to the left of the grated entrance.  Another guard met them once inside and led them across a stone and dirt yard to a low building, where they signed the visitor ledger and handed their papers over to a third guard, who locked them in a safe.  The third guard then checked them for weapons before a fourth guard entered through a side door and asked them to follow him.  Poe and Finn were gestured into a small room, with two narrow windows up at the ceiling, a heavy metal table, and two chairs facing each other on opposite sides of the table.

 

“Prisoner 21-87-B will be brought presently.  If you need anything, knock on the door and I will attend you,” the fourth guard informed them before leaving them in the small room, closing the door behind them.

 

Poe looked around.  “What do you know, prison interview rooms look the same the world over.  The windows are different.”

 

“You can wait outside,” Finn said quickly, guilt building in his gut.  “I know prisons—I know it’s hard for you to be here.”

 

“Don’t worry about me, love.”  Poe reached out and pulled Finn in for a tight embrace.  Finn sunk into him, lowering his head to Poe’s shoulder.  “I know I can leave whenever I want to.  I know I’m not the prisoner this time.”

 

The second door on the far side of the room swung open, and Poe released Finn and took a step to stand beside his fiancé.  A different guard marched in a tall manacled man dressed in gray prison pants and tunic.  The prisoner managed to look proud and scornful even as he was pressed into one of the chairs and had his handcuffs attached to the table.  The guard then withdrew through the door he had entered from and left Finn staring at his cousin with wide eyes.

 

“Sit down,” Ben ordered.  Poe bristled at the tone and felt his carefully neutral face slip into a glare.

 

Finn snorted but made his way over the seat across from Ben.  “You’re just the same, aren’t you,” he asked, sitting down.  “You always had to have the first and last word.”

 

“Did you come here to reminisce?  Or are you here to lord over me?”

 

“I think we both know you ‘lord’ enough for the both of us,” Finn answered with a shrug. 

 

Ben didn’t respond to that, instead focusing his attention on Poe, who had moved to lean against the wall behind Finn with his arms crossed.

 

“You brought the same guard dog,” Ben sneered.

 

“Fiancé, actually,” Finn corrected, keeping his tone light.  Ben’s eyes scanned Poe’s person, as though he was searching for something.

 

“Indeed?  Your precious moron of a father is allowing this?”

 

“Papa and Poe are amicable.”

 

Ben snickered.  “You needn’t lie to me, cousin.  I know your father better than that.”

 

“If you knew Papa at all you would have known he would have died than see me on the throne of Russia.”

 

A flicker of surprise crossed Ben’s face at that statement.  Poe tried to mask his own shock as he watched the back of Finn’s head.

 

“Even a broken clock is correct twice in a day,” Ben spat out.  Finn shrugged but did not respond.  The cousins watched each other and silence reigned.  Poe glanced down at his watch after a while, and was shocked to see that nearly thirty minutes had passed before Ben spoke again.  “What do you remember?”

 

If Finn was surprised by the question he didn’t show it.  “A bit.  Usually something will trigger a memory.  What do you want me to remember, Ben?”

 

“It's of no concern to me.”

 

“Really?  Then why did you ask?”  Finn waited but Ben stayed silent.  “On the bridge—you asked if I remembered the first time you tried to drown me.  You wanted me to remember that.  I think I know why.”

 

“Enlighten me,” Ben mocked.

 

“You apologized.  Before you tried to kill me, you apologized.  You told me that if you didn’t kill me Snoke would and he would draw it out.”  Finn heard Poe gasp behind him but he kept his attention on his cousin.  “That’s what you wanted me to remember, Ben, isn’t it?  That you were sorry.  That you thought I had to die but you didn’t want me to suffer.  That you were caught up in something bigger than any of us.”

 

Another, longer, break lapsed.  Ben’s face didn’t betray the slightest reaction.  Finn didn’t know what he expected; he knew confirmation would be too much to ask but some kind of response would have been nice.  Instead Ben appeared to have been turned to stone except for the slow blinks and shallow breaths.  Finn didn’t know how long he sat there, watching his cousin, waiting for something, anything.

 

“I want to speak to your guard dog.”

 

“What,” Finn asked, blinking.

 

“Guard dog, fiancé, whichever you prefer,” Ben rolled his eyes, jerking his chin at Poe over Finn’s shoulder.  Finn turned to look at Poe, who was still glaring at Ben with unconcealed hatred.

 

“I don’t know if Poe wants to speak to you, Ben,” Finn said slowly.

 

“I can speak for myself, love,” Poe interjected.  “He doesn’t have anything to say to me, Finn.  It’s fine.”

 

“If you’ll excuse us, Fyodor,” Ben said, smirking.  Finn frowned, watching Poe for a signal.  Poe nodded curtly, and Finn stood.  He walked first to Poe, pressing a quick kiss to Poe’s cheek before knocking on the door and leaving.

 

Poe stayed where he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

 

“You called him Finn,” Ben spoke.

 

“Yes,” Poe answered flatly.

 

“Why?”

 

“None of your business.”

 

“You’re marrying my cousin.  To quote you, that’s my business,” Ben smirked.

 

“You lost any right you had to claim a relationship with Finn thirteen years ago.”

 

“Did he ever tell you what I called him?”  Ben smiled in a self-satisfied manner when Poe stayed silent.  “He might not remember.  You should ask him.”

 

“Is that what you want to tell me?  Some cryptic garbage about a childhood nickname?”

 

“Partly.  I also want to congratulate you on marrying him despite the Skywalker Curse.”

 

“I don’t believe in superstitions,” Poe said flatly, filing away that tidbit to ask Leia about later.

 

“Sensible.  All the same, you must be brave and reckless.  You think those are admirable traits,” Ben murmured, watching Poe’s neutral face.  “You’re proud of that.”

 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Poe interrupted.  “It’s not working.”

 

“Of course not,” Ben answered lightly with a careless shrug.  “Frankly, you will need those if you have any hope to manage my cousin.”

 

“I don’t _manage_ him,” Poe snapped, hating himself for taking the bait.

 

“Don’t you?  He has a habit of finding trouble, if I remember correctly.  You may have noticed.”

 

“I would find it myself,” Poe replied honestly.

 

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Ben said.  He leaned forward, leveling his gaze at Poe.  “You don’t want to believe it but I do know my cousin.  One day he will go too far.  Not the same way I did,” he continued when Poe’s eyes flashed dangerously.  “But he gets himself into trouble, doesn’t he?  He always tries to help.  Ah,” Ben smiled as Poe’s back straightened, “you’ve heard that before.  Then you’ve seen for yourself that he has predilection to do anything to help.”  Ben grinned when Poe didn’t deny it.  “One day he’ll need you to save him.  When that day comes,” Ben stared at Poe, “be kind.”

 

“You don’t get to speak about kindness,” Poe bit out.  “You tried to kill him.”

 

“And I’m telling you to be careful he doesn’t hurt himself.”

 

Poe knocked on the door and left without looking back.  Finn jumped to his feet from where he was seated, waiting for Poe.  Poe’s scowl eased at the look of worry on Finn’s face so Poe held out his arms for his fiancé.  Finn sighed in relief and stepped into the embrace, arms closing around Poe’s waist tightly.  Poe snorted softly, wrapping his arms around Finn’s shoulders and holding him tightly.  Poe placed a light kiss on the side of Finn’s head.

 

“Alright, my love.  We’re alright.  Are you ready to head home,” Poe asked quietly.  Finn nodded against the side of Poe’s neck causing Poe to chuckle.

 

“Your papers, sirs,” the guard behind the desk said.

 

“Thank you,” Finn said with a smile, taking the identification papers back.  Poe nodded at the guard before heading out into the yard, where another guard escorting Poe and Finn past the prison walls.  The pair made their way to Rey’s car and got in without speaking a word.  Finn handed Poe his papers before folding his own back into his wallet.  Poe shoved his into his trousers’ pockets and started the car and pulled away from the prison.

 

“It’s dark out,” Finn said mildly.  He glanced up at the sky where twilight had taken over.  “Darker than I thought it would be.”

 

“Night comes earlier now,” Poe replied easily.

 

“Yeah,” Finn nodded, hugging his arms around himself against the cool wind as the car picked up speed down the narrow road.

 

“Are you cold,” Poe asked, glancing over.  Finn shrugged and Poe pulled over and stopped the car, taking off his suit jacket.  “Here.  It’s too bad that the roof is stuck.”  Finn shot a sheepish look at Poe, who laughed.  “Put it on, love.  I’m not cold.”

 

Finn grinned at that, taking the jacket from Poe and using it as a blanket over his chest.  Poe winked and then eased the car back into drive and continued on.  “Did he say anything to you,” Finn asked hesitantly.

 

“Not much,” Poe hedged.  “He said I should ask you what he used to call you when you were a child.”  Poe sighed.  “Do you remember?”

 

Finn frowned, thinking that over.  “I don’t know.  He didn’t call me ‘angel’ like the others did, but I don’t remember what name he gave me.”  Finn turned to Poe.  “Why is that important?”

 

“I have no idea, love.  Don’t worry about it.”  Poe took one hand off the steering wheel to pat Finn’s knee.  “Are you okay?  You had a lot to say back there.”

 

Finn grimaced.  “Yeah, I—yeah, I’m good.  Are you—did it upset you to hear about that?”

 

“I was surprised.  I don’t enjoy hearing about the attempts made on your life,” Poe said calmly.  He turned back onto the main road and shifted gears, grinning as he sped up.  Time to go home.  “But I’m not upset at you,” he finished, calling over the wind.

 

“I’m glad,” Finn yelled back, gripping Poe’s jacket tightly.  Finn relaxed back into the cushioned bench of the car, allowing his eyes to drift shut.  Poe smiled, watching the other man’s tension ease.  Poe edged the car further, wanting to get home as soon as possible.  He didn’t even mind that they were expected for a family dinner at the dowagers’ when they got back to Paris.  Luke had extended the invitation to Kes, who had gladly accepted and promised Poe’s attendance as well.  Maybe Poe could convince Finn to slip away and have a quiet dinner, just the two of them.

 

The other car came over the hill and was gaining speed, its headlights suddenly blinding Poe.

 

Poe jerked the wheel to avoid it, slamming his foot against the break.

 

Finn screamed.

 

Poe yelled, throwing an arm out for Finn.

 

The car flipped.

 

*****

 

He awoke to total darkness.  His mind was like a wool ball, and his head hurt.  A pounding, constant spike of pain.  His face was pressed against grass and dirt, and he managed to roll onto his back, despite protest from his mind-numbing headache.  He kept his eyes closed, taking short gasping breaths, trying to think.  He couldn’t—he didn’t know where he was or why he was wherever he was.  Slowly he peeled his eyes opened, lifting his hands to press against his temples.  One of his temples was wet; there was no water that he could see.  Why was it wet?

 

He had to look around.  He had to figure out where he was.  He had to sit up.  He hadn’t hurt this much since his last beating.  When had that been?  Was he in solitary?  He hadn’t been sent to solitary in so long.  He propped himself up onto his elbows and squinted around.  He was…in a field.  That was…different.  He saw something large about thirty meters away, but in the dark he couldn’t make out what it was.  The moon wasn’t even out to help him.  He pushed himself to sit up fully, gasping and clasping a hand to his forehead as the pain increased sharply.  He had to do it now or else he would lie back down.  Taking a deep breath, he rolled onto his hands and knees and then pushed himself to his feet, immediately bending and retching at the dizziness that overcame him.

 

Feeling slightly better, even if his limited vision was swimming, he stumbled towards the object he had spotted before.  He kept one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other switching between holding his head and stretching forward to keep his balance.  He was nearly at the—thing—when his foot caught on something slippery and he toppled forward with a grunt, landing heavily on his knees and one elbow.  Blinking, he slowly turned to see what he had tripped over.  It looked like a patch of darkness in the dark.  Curious, he reached out and felt fabric.  That was not what he expected.  He sat back on his heels and picked the fabric up.

 

He tried to inspect it, but it was too dark and his eyes hurt and everything was foggy.  He ran his hands along it, finding—sleeves, buttons, collar.  It was a jacket.  A nice jacket.  Softer than anything he’d ever worn.  Was that true?  Was he wearing a jacket?  He patted against his chest with his right hand, feeling a vest, a tie, a jacket—why was he all dressed up?  Not important.  Turning back to the jacket in his hands, he brought it close to his face, hoping he could make something out.  A faint scent reached his nose.  It was sweet, a little alcoholic, and something else.  Something that seemed familiar.  Something he should know.

 

“Poe,” he breathed.  Suddenly it as though his mind was trying to turn itself inside out.  He cried out, burying his head in Poe’s jacket, praying the pain would end. 

 

Fyodor. 

 

Angel. 

 

Boy. 

 

Finn. 

 

Kid. 

 

Buddy. 

 

Love.

 

Finn.

 

“Poe,” Finn called out, ignoring how much it hurt to open his eyes, to hear his own voice.  He surged back to his feet and staggered as quickly as he could to the wrecked car.  “Poe!  Poe, where are you?”

 

The car was upside down, crumbled in a way he didn’t understand.  Finn ducked down to look into the driver’s seat, heart in his throat, afraid of what he might see.  When he didn’t see anyone, he didn’t know if he was relieved or more frightened.

 

“Poe!  Please!  Poe!”

 

Mindlessly he pulled Poe’s jacket on over his own as he looked frantically around.  Where could he be?  He felt like he might be sick again; his head was trying to kill him.  He needed—where was—

 

“Poe, please!  I need you!”

 

Finn didn’t trust his own ears when he heard a soft groan off on his left.

 

“Poe?”

 

The groan was back, slightly louder.  Finn took off, pushing everything away: the pain, the confusion, the hurt.  He ran, trying to push the graying edges away so he could see further, clearer.  The groaning stopped, replaced immediately by a thrum of some kind Finn didn’t understand.  He followed it, blinking rapidly.  Suddenly, Poe was at his feet, laying on his back, muttering a constant string of,

 

“Finn, Finn, Finn, Finn--,”

 

“Poe!  Oh my God!”  Finn collapsed to his knees, reaching a shaking hand out to tentatively touch Poe’s cheek, almost afraid he wouldn’t be able to feel him.

 

“Oh God, _Finn_.”  Poe’s right hand shot up to catch Finn’s hand.  “My love, my heart, _my soul_.  Are you hurt?  Are you in pain?”

 

Finn choked out a wet laugh.  “You’re the one on the ground.  Poe, what happened?  Are you okay?”

 

“The car,” Poe closed his eyes and swallowed.  “The car went off the road.”

 

“It’s destroyed,” Finn confirmed.  “I didn’t—Poe, I didn’t remember.”

 

“Shh, my love, it’s alright.”  Poe tried to lean up, but his left shoulder refused.  He strained his neck up as far as he could to try and see Finn more clearly.  “It’s okay.  But Finn, I need you to tell me if you’re in pain.”

 

Finn swallowed drily.  “My head hurts, but I can walk.”

 

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m sorry, love.  I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Finn said firmly.  “Don’t say—don’t blame yourself.  Please.”

 

Poe sighed, dropping his head back to the ground.  Not the time to berate himself.  Finn needed— _they_ needed a plan.  “Okay.  My love, do you think you can find help?  We can’t be too far from a—a house or a farm or something.”

 

“I—we can try,” Finn answered, his voice trembling.  “We can start walking down the road.”

 

“I—Finn, I can’t walk.  My left knee—I don’t know, but it’s not good.  When I heard you, I tried to stand, but I couldn’t.”

 

Finn was shaking his head before Poe finished speaking.  “No.  No, I’m not leaving you.  We’ll go together.”

 

“Shh, love.  I know, I know.  But this is the only way,” Poe whispered, heart breaking as he watched terror overtake Finn’s face.

 

“If it were me, you wouldn’t leave me,” Finn said, his breath coming in short bursts now.  Now his head was pounding and his heart was trying to squeeze its way out of his chest.

 

Poe knew.  Nothing in the world could make him leave Finn if he was the one who couldn’t move.  He’d find a way.  Poe tried to think, tried to find a way.

 

“Please.  Poe, I’m scared.  What if—what if I forget again?”

 

“Oh.  You forgot--?  Finn, tell me.”

 

Finn shook his head, squeezing his eyes tight as the first tear escaped.  Poe lifted their still clasped hands, brushing the tear away with a knuckle.

 

“You won’t forget.  I’ll be with you,” Poe gulped.  “Could you come around to my right side?  You’ll have to support me.  You might have to carry me before too long,” Poe cautioned as Finn scrambled around Poe.  “Okay, help me sit up.  Great.  Now, I’m going to try and keep my arm around your neck.  Get your arm—right there.  Good.  Now, you’ll have to stand.  Easy, easy,” Poe gasped, fresh sweat covering his face as he tried to keep from screaming at the pain that shot from his left shoulder to knee and back again as Finn carefully lifted him up.  Supporting as much weight as he could on his right leg, Poe leaned against Finn’s side and took a moment to take a few deep breaths.  This would never work.

 

“Are you ready,” Finn asked softly.

 

Never work.

 

“Yeah, love.  Let’s go.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, originally October was going to be one very long chapter, but it became unwieldy. However, I can't really leave you at that, can I? So, for a rare treat, there will be two updates this week! Look for a new chapter Friday :)  
> As always, thank you so much for the amazing comments and kudos for the last chapter! They are cherished and appreciated, and you are all amazing :D


	12. Chapter 11: October, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So two chapters in a week was harder than I thought. But here you go, lovely people!

“Go and get ready for bed, Colette,” Aline called from the sink where she was scrubbing the last plate clean.

 

“But I’m not tired,” Colette whined from her spot at the table, reading by the candlelight.  

 

“You will be as soon as you wash up,” Aline replied exasperated.  Must they have this conversation every night?  She placed the plate on the rack to dry before untying her apron.  She listened to Colette sigh loudly before her soft footsteps pattered across the floor towards the water closet at the back of the small house.  Aline shook her head, moving to blow out the candle that faintly illuminated the kitchen.

 

Abrupt, quick knocking on the front door pulled Aline up short.  She swallowed and walked slowly as the knocking continued.  She picked up the hunter rifle that she kept by front door and undid the latch, slowly cracking the door open.

 

“What do you want,” she snapped, peeking through the small gap.

 

“Uh, we were in an accident,” came a strained man’s voice.  “My fiancé is hurt.”

 

Aline opened the door a little wider, taking in the man standing on her doorstep.  He had another man, clearly unconscious, draped across his shoulders, and he was shaking under the strain.  Aline looked over the man’s suit, which was neat even if it was torn a bit.  Thieves rarely knocked on the door dressed nicely.

 

“Come in,” Aline said, stepping aside and holding the door open.  The man breathed out his thanks before stumbling in.  “You can lay him down over there,” she continued, pointing over to the bench under the window and then turning to shut the door.

 

“Thank you so much,” the man gasped, easing the other down and back onto the bench.  “I can’t thank you enough.  Do you have a telephone I could use?”

 

“No,” Aline answered.  The man’s face fell.

 

“Oh.  I see.  Is there—I need to get Poe to a doctor, and I have to call our families…is there a town nearby?”

 

Aline shook her head, feeling sorry for the young man.  “The nearest town is three miles away.  I don’t have a car.”  She was tempted to add she didn’t have money either, just to be safe.

 

The young man just nodded.  “I understand.  I’m sorry to bother you.  If—could I,” the man broke off with a sigh, looking down at the man he claimed was his fiancé.  “We should be on our way, then.”

 

“Hello!  Who are you?”

 

Aline heaved an exhausted groan as Colette reappeared.

 

“Hi,” the young man smiled.  “My name is Finn.  I was just on my way out.”

 

“Wait,” Colette approached Finn, despite Aline throwing out an arm to stop her.  “You look familiar.  Do you live around here?”

 

“No, I live in Paris,” Finn answered with a soft smile.  He glanced back at Aline.  “I am sorry to have troubled you.”

 

“Who’s that,” Colette asked, pointing at the unconscious man.

 

“Oh, he’s my fiancé, Poe,” Finn looked scanned over Poe, but he showed no signs of waking.  “He’s...sleeping.”

 

“Wait.  Are you Finn Skywalker?”  Colette’s face split into a huge grin.  “Ma, this is Finn Skywalker and Poe Dameron!  Remember, from the paper?  I cut out the article.  I keep it in my memory box.  You’re a grand duke!”

 

“Grand duke,” Aline asked.

 

“Not anymore,” Finn explained.  “I’m deposed.”

 

“But that is you,” Colette demanded.

 

“Yes, it is,” Finn confirmed.  “And this is Poe Dameron, who would say it’s very nice to meet you if he was awake.”

 

“Why is he sleeping,” Colette asked.

 

Finn frowned, thinking over what answer he should give a child.  “Well, you know how it is.  He—um--,”

 

Colette tilted her head.  “Is he like Sleeping Beauty?”

 

“Uh, yes?”

 

Aline rubbed her forehead, trying to strive off the headache that threatened to overcome her.  “I can give you a ride to town.  There’s a doctor there.  After that you’re on your own.”  Finn stared at her in open admiration, but Aline just turned her back to him.  “I’m going to get the horse ready.  Colette, you can help me.”

 

*****

 

Poe woke up suddenly, gasping and trying to sit up.  A pair of hands came to keep him from rising.

 

“Relax!  Stay calm and breath,” an unfamiliar voice said.  Poe forced his eyes open, squinting against the bright lights that exploded across his vision.

 

“Where am I?  Where’s Finn,” Poe demanded.  He turned his head to look at the older woman crouched beside him.  “Who are you?”

 

“My name is Dr. Kalonia.  You are in my home.  You have been in an accident.  Do you remember?”

 

“Yeah,” Poe groaned, trying to push himself to his elbows when he noticed his left arm was in a tight sling across his chest.  He stared at that before shaking his head.  “I remember.  Where’s Finn?  Is he hurt?”

 

“Your fiancé is resting,” Dr. Kalonia answered calmly.  “It wasn’t easy to convince him to.  He was worried about you.”

 

“Where is he,” Poe asked, clenching his teeth.  He tried again to sit up, using his right arm, but the doctor stopped him again, keeping his lying flat on his back.

 

“He’s in the other cot, just over there,” Kalonia said, jerking her chin past the foot of the bed Poe occupied.  “He was insistent that the both of you remain in the same room.  I tried to make him wait outside when I set your knee and shoulder, but he wouldn’t.”

 

Poe frowned, glancing down, noticing for the first time that his left knee was in a brace.  He didn’t remember when that happened.  “How bad is it?”

 

“You have to stay off your feet for a few weeks.  You broke your collar bone, and could take a month to fully heal.  You were extremely lucky,” Kalonia continued, slowly getting to her feet. 

 

“And Finn?”  Poe knew he would be fine.  He had had similar injuries before, knew how long he would have to wait to heal.  They hurt like hell and made life difficult, but they weren’t life-threatening.  He didn’t need to hear he was ‘lucky.’  He needed to know Finn was too.

 

“Your fiancé has a head wound, that had most ceased bleeding by the time you arrived here,” the doctor said matter-of-factly.  She had dealt with married couples before.  “He was experiencing a certain level of confusion and exhaustion.  He lost consciousness shortly after I finished with your brace.”

 

“Oh my God,” Poe gasped. 

 

“However, that is nothing to be concerned about,” Kalonia huffed.  “He is sleeping now.  Is there anyone I should contact for you?  It’s late, but--,”

 

“What?”  Poe looked wildly around the room before his eyes landed on the small clock in the corner.  It was already past 2100.  Damn.  Poe rapidly recited the telephone number for the dowagers, adding, “Ask for Kes Dameron, but if he’s unavailable ask for Luke Skywalker.  Make sure the first thing you say is that Finn is alive.”

 

Dr. Kalonia shot a skeptical look in Poe’s direction before nodding and leaving the room quickly.  With the doctor finally gone, Poe twisted around to the best of his ability and grabbed the pillow he was resting on.  He propped it up against the wall behind him and then used his right arm and leg to push himself up, doing his best to keep his left leg stable.  Once he was sitting up, he could see across to the cot beyond and Finn, who was curled into an impossibly tight ball, hugging his legs to his chest.  A too-white bandage was covering Finn’s right temple, and Poe’s heart ached.  He hadn’t noticed the injury earlier.  Head wounds were never good, and they tended to bleed for far too long.  Had Finn carried him for God knows how long, while bleeding?

 

“You should be lying down,” Kalonia scolded mildly, returning to the room.

 

“He needs to be able to see me, when he wakes up,” Poe replied firmly.  The image of Finn’s terrified face when he confessed that he was scared of forgetting— _again_ —well, that wasn’t going to happen, if Poe had anything to do about it.  “Were you able to talk to Kes or Luke?”

 

“I spoke to your father.”  Poe closed his eyes and sighed; he had assumed that the dowagers’ house would have become an impromptu headquarters after Finn and Poe were late.  Still, knowing his father was there, probably worried out his mind, was—upsetting.  “He told me to tell you to remain calm--,” Poe snorted at that, “—and that they would be there as soon as possible.  The drive from Paris is about forty minutes.”

 

“They,” Poe repeated, frowning.  “Doctor, I should apologize now.”

 

“Why,” she asked suspiciously, placing a cup of water on the table beside Poe.

 

“Because in about thirty minutes this place will be overrun by a colonel, a general, and a dowager emperor,” Poe said with a sympathetic wince in the doctor’s direction.  “If they have enough cars, a dowager empress, a countess, and a lieutenant might be joining them.”

 

Kalonia blinked.  “I don’t think they will all fit.”

 

“They’ll find a way,” Poe sighed.  Finn shifted slightly on his cot and Poe straightened.  “Finn?  Love?”

 

“…Poe,” came a breathy response.  Poe felt his face split wide in a grin. 

 

“Yeah, buddy, I’m here.”

 

“I’ll leave you two be for now,” Kalonia said quietly.  “You, Dameron,” she said, pointing, “better not leave that bed.”

 

“He won’t,” Finn answered groggily, easing himself up and rubbing his eyes.  That seemed to be enough for the doctor, who nodded and withdrew.  Finn sat on the edge of his cot, blinking, trying to get the spots of black to leave his vision.  When he decided the spots were here to stay for a little longer at least, he pushed himself up and took the four steps he needed to be next to Poe.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” Poe reassured, reaching his right arm across his body, smiling when Finn’s own hand shot out in response to grasp his.  “Thank you.  You took good care of me.”

 

“I was mostly dragging you by the end,” Finn frowned, sinking down to his knees.  “I think I might have made your knee worse.”

 

“No, my love.  You did great.”  Poe paused before asking, “What do you remember now?”

 

Finn shrugged.  “I think I remember everything I knew before.  We’re engaged, right?”  At Poe’s alarmed face Finn relented.  “Sorry.  Bad time for a joke.”

 

“Finn, I think my heart stopped,” Poe groaned, tilting his head back and breathing deeply.  “Let’s keep those jokes to a minimum for now, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Finn agreed easily.  “I’m—I’m so sorry, Poe.  That I forgot you.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Poe breathed reverently.  “Don’t apologize for that.  It’s not your fault.  You had no control over that.  You have to know that.”

 

“How could I forget you,” Finn whispered, tears starting to well in his eyes.  Poe loosened his grip on Finn’s hand to reach out for Finn’s face.  Finn obligingly leaned his cheek forward into Poe’s palm.

 

“Finn, listen to me.”  Poe waited until Finn’s swimming eyes met his.  “I’m not angry.  I’m not upset.  I understand.  You didn’t choose to forget me.  And you remembered.  You remembered all by yourself.  But, I swear to God, you will never have to remember alone again.  If you ever forget again, I will be right there with you.  I will always be there to help you remember.  I promise.”

 

Finn’s eyes slid shut and he leaned forward, dropping his head against Poe’s stomach, below his sling.  Poe ran his free hand across Finn’s short curls, listening to Finn’s choked-off gasps, feeling the small pricks of wetness that appeared on his shirt.  Poe glanced around, noticing his suit pants, vest, shirt, and tie were draped over a chair in the corner.  He hadn’t noticed he was in his undershirt and had been changed into a pair of loose sleep pants.  Finn was still fully dressed.  More than fully dressed, now that Poe looked at it.

 

“Is that my jacket,” Poe asked, running his thumb along the collar.  Some crusted blood flaked off, and Poe swallowed tightly.

 

“Oh.  Yeah, I found it.  Here,” Finn sat up and began to pull it off.  Poe smiled, tugging the jacket back over Finn’s shoulder.

 

“No, keep it.  It suits you.”

 

Poe watched as Finn’s face went completely blank before slowly transforming into a look of complete shock.  Poe frowned, eyes darting across Finn as though he could somehow see what was wrong with Finn.

 

“You’ve said that to me before,” Finn gasped.

 

“What?  Maybe,” Poe shrugged with his one good shoulder.  “What’s--,”

 

“At the palace.  You switched coats with me.”  Finn stared at Poe, who suddenly went tense.  “You wouldn’t tell me your name.  You left to give us a head start.”

 

“…You remember that?”

 

“I—I do now,” Finn stumbled, leaning back and grasping his head in his hands.  “God, it hurts.”

 

“Finn, listen.”  It killed Poe that Finn was now out of reach.  “Finn, come back.  It’s okay.”

 

Finn whimpered as a knife of pain shot across his skull, right behind his eyes.  There were colors, lights, faces.  Too many faces.  Faces he never saw before but he knew.  Flashes of pictures.  A river.  A large palace bathed in sunlight.  Snow.  Red snow.  Papa.  Papa was leaving.  Leia was frowning.  A tree.  A horse.  Poe in uniform.  A library.  He was hiding from something.  He was on Han’s shoulders.  Papa was singing to him.  A large fireplace.  Leia was reading.  Trains, everywhere.  A small dog followed him in a field.  He wrapped his too-short arms around Poe’s neck.  He was in Ben’s arms, crying.  Ben was clutching him tightly against his chest.  Water—so much water—too much water--

 

Poe frantically scrambled, using everything he had to throw his braced leg over the side of the cot and sit up fully.  Finn was curled almost in half, squeezing his head between his hands, crying out.  Each cry seemed to be ripped from him, and Poe couldn’t sit by and watch as his love went through that.  This was what helpless truly meant.  Poe couldn’t even reach him.

 

“Finn, you’re okay.  You’re not alone.  You’re safe.”  Poe was speaking but he didn’t know how.  His mind was completely blank.  “Please.  Just listen to my voice.  I’m right here.  I need you to come back to me.”

 

For a moment, Finn’s eyes opened and met his.  Finn’s dark eyes were filmed over with tears, and Poe couldn’t be sure Finn was even seeing him.  Poe’s heart clenched before speeding up.

 

“I love you, Finn.  Stay with me.”

 

But Finn’s eyes closed again as he shouted out again in agony.

 

The door flew open, and Poe’s head snapped up alarmed.  Kes and Luke paused there for a breath, before Kes moved to Poe’s side and Luke dropped down next to Finn, placing a hand between Finn’s shoulders.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Poe said, hearing his voice like it was underwater, feeling tears roll down his cheeks.  “He remembered something from—before—and then--,”

 

“Calm yourself, son,” Kes soothed, wrapping an arm around Poe’s shoulders and attempting to lay him back down.

 

“No!”  Poe jerked out of his father’s hold.  “Finn, I need—he needs to see me.  He forgot--,”

 

Luke sent a concerned look his way before focusing on Finn, who was trembling under his hand, taking ragged gasps.  Luke slowly adjusted his hold, wrapping an arm around Finn’s waist, while using his other hand to cradle Finn’s face.  He turned his son slowly, maneuvering his lax body until Finn was resting against his chest.

 

“Look at me, Fyodor,” Luke murmured.  The shaking in Finn’s body continued but he lifted his head, slowly, as though he could barely support it.  Luke’s eyes quickly scanned across his son’s face, observing the bandage, the tracks of tears, the parted lips as he tried to take in deeper breaths.  Then his son was speaking, rapidly, and it took a moment for Luke to realize he was speaking in a language he hadn’t heard from his son in over twelve years.

 

Poe looked on in horror as Finn went from nearly motionless to manic, speaking in a language he didn’t understand, didn’t even know what it was.  “What is he saying?  What’s happening,” Poe asked desperately.

 

“I don’t know, son,” Kes answered sadly.  He started rubbing slow, easy circles across Poe’s back as they watched the pair on the floor.  Luke wasn’t speaking, just listening as Finn babbled and gestured, growing more and more agitated.

 

“He’s speaking some form of Italian,” Han said from the doorway.  He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.  “He and Luke would speak to each other in Italian sometimes, before the coup.”

 

“Do you know what he’s saying,” Poe nearly begged.

 

“Sorry,” Han frowned.  “I have no idea.  The reason they would use Italian was because no one else knew it.”  Han paused before asking, “How are you, Poe?”

 

Poe waved it away.  “I’m fine.  Collar bone and knee.  I’ll be fine in a few weeks.  Not important.  None of that’s important when my _husband_ is in _pain_ and _speaking in tongues_!”

 

“Husband,” Han snorted.

 

“Stay calm, Poe,” Luke said, not taking his eyes off Finn.  Slowly, Luke took both of Finn’s wrists in his hand and bent them up until they were tucked against Finn’s chest.  Finn stopped speaking abruptly, staring up at his father.  Luke raised his hand and pressed it softly against Finn’s forehead, whispering something in the strange language.  Finn’s eyes slid shut, and he seemed to ease even though Poe could tell he wasn’t asleep.

 

Luke cleared his throat.  “I taught him Italian as his second language.  His mother was from Calabria.  I thought he should know his mother’s tongue.”  Luke looked up and straight at Poe.  “At ease.  Finn will be upset if he sees you like this.”

 

Poe didn’t need an explanation.  He knew he must look a wreck, eyes red from crying, and scared.  “What—what was he telling you?  What did you do?”

 

Luke cracked a small smile.  “I calmed him.  Admittedly, I was unsure if it would be effective.  I have not done it since he was seven years old.”

 

“It was like you doused a candle,” Poe said in awe.

 

“Well,” Luke looked slightly uncomfortable, “through much trial and error.  I was only six years older than Fyodor when I suddenly had a son.  No one taught me; I made many mistakes.”

 

“We all do,” Kes nodded.  “No one is ever prepared.”

 

Luke looked down at his son’s peaceful face.  “No, we never are.”

 

Han coughed, drawing everyone’s attention.  “Did Finn say what happened?”

 

“Our car went off the road,” Poe supplied.  “We were separated briefly.  He forgot but--,”

 

“He forgot who he was, where he was, everything,” Luke interjected.  “He didn’t remember anything until he found Poe’s jacket.”

 

“Oh.”  Poe swallowed, leaning against his father.  “Well, then he found me.  I think he carried me here.”

 

“He carried you to a house, where he met a lady and her daughter who brought both of you here,” Luke said.  “Then the doctor fixed your knee and shoulder and Finn fell asleep.”

 

Poe nodded.  “When he woke up he apologized for forgetting.  He was upset but not—not like _that_ ,” he said, waving his hand as though he could encompass the entire scene they had just witnessed.

 

“You said something that reminded him of the night of the coup,” Luke stared at Poe.  “You were the boy with Han.”

 

Poe shrugged with his right shoulder.  “Yes.  But it’s not important.”

 

“It is important,” Luke said firmly, “and you should have said something before now.  But we can discuss that at another time.  From what I understand, after that, Finn began to remember other things.”

 

“He was in pain,” Poe flailed.  “I saw him, heard him.  How could memories hurt him?”

 

Luke sent a sad look in Poe’s direction.  “The accompanying pain I can only speculate on.  I would hazard a guess that it was a similar head injury that caused him to forget the first time, twelve years ago.  Now, a similar pain has triggered his memories to return.  Partially.”

 

“Partially,” Kes asked.

 

“That was why Finn panicked,” Luke nodded.  “He is not remembering anything in completion.  He remembers I left, but not that I came back.  He remembers drowning, but not being saved.  He was…distressed…because he could not put the pieces together.”  Luke glanced down at Finn, who groaned softly.  “However, his ability to speak Italian appears to have returned fully.”

 

Finn muttered something, blinking his eyes open.

 

“Russian or French, my angel.  You have appropriately scared your poor fiancé enough tonight.”

 

Finn frowned, looking around the room, as though he was seeing it for the first time.  His gaze paused on Han and Kes, before resting on Poe.  “Oh.  Poe, I’m so--,”

 

“If you dare apologize to me again tonight, I will take back my support of your tightrope walking endeavors,” Poe threatened, half-heartedly as he dragged his hand across his face. 

 

“You wouldn’t,” Finn frowned.

 

“Try me.  I am just in the mood.”

 

Han barked a laugh.  “That’s sounded just like you, Kes.”

 

“Aw, dropping idle threats,” Kes cooed, planting a kiss on Poe’s forehead.  “It's as though you’re already married.”

 

“Perhaps we should go home now,” Luke suggested.  “Poe, you and your father are welcome to stay with us until you are fully healed.”

 

Poe was fully prepared to refused; the idea of spending prolonged time with Luke was still unsettling, even if they had come a long way.  However, one look at Finn’s exhausted but expectant face had him nodding, saying, “Thank you, Luke.  That would be great.”      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the second installment!  
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the last chapter! I am so happy to hear that people are enjoying the adventure :)


	13. Chapter 12: November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a day late. I'm very sorry for any reader who was waiting for it last night. Turns out finishing and editing three chapters for this story in a week was more involved than I thought. But here it is!

“—and look at this!”  Finn pulled a book off the shelf and thrust it against Bastian’s stomach.

 

“Oof, alright, doll.  Slow down,” Bastian huffed, turning the book over in his hands.  “What am I looking at?”

 

“It’s written in Italian, and I can read it,” Finn beamed, shifting his weight from foot to foot with excitement.  “I didn’t remember but now I do!”

 

Bastian nodded slowly.  “That’s…incredible, doll.”

 

“It’s the strangest thing,” Finn agreed, sitting down and gesturing for Bastian to do that same.  “It’s as though my mind isn’t my mind any more.”

 

“Well, that sounds terrifying,” Bastian said, lowering himself onto the sofa next to Finn.  Finn shrugged.

 

“It was, at first.  It’s getting easier now.  For the first week, everything I looked at reminded me of something and it was—well, it was terrifying.  Poe tried to convince the doctor I should be placed on bedrest, but the doctor refused.”

 

“I don’t agree with Dameron often,” Bastian sighed, “but he might have had a point.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “No, he didn’t.  The memories would have come eventually.  I might as well get them as soon as possible so I can move forward.”  Finn paused and then said, “Poe can’t talk, anyway.  He should have been on bedrest for two weeks, and after three days he was hobbling around.  He nearly broke his other leg trying to get outside.”

 

“That sounds about right,” Bastian laughed.  “Anyway, I’m sorry I haven’t visited earlier--,”

 

“Don’t apologize for that,” Finn interrupted, shaking his head.  “Snap said the studio has been crazy without Poe.  Have you taken over his clients?”

 

Bastian shrugged.  “I do what I can.  We’ll all be glad when Poe comes back.”

 

“You should tell him that,” Finn urged.  “He’s driving himself up the wall.  He threw a glass at Kes last night because Kes wouldn’t tell him where he hid Poe’s rapier.”

 

“Merde,” Bastian cursed softly.  “Where is he?”

 

“The conservatory,” Finn answered, standing.  “Will you really speak to him?  He won’t listen to any of us; he keeps saying we’re just trying to placate him—not in those words but…”

 

“It sounds like he’s being a pain in the ass,” Bastian muttered under his breath.  “Yeah, doll, I’ll talk to him.  Lead the way.”

 

Bastian tried to keep from gaping as he followed Finn through the mansion.  The real reason he hadn’t come to see Finn earlier was because he hadn’t felt comfortable coming.  He knew he didn’t belong here, and anyway, Finn had called him to fill him in on the whole adventure.  That could have been enough until Finn returned to the studio.  But Kes had found him the day before and told Bastian that Finn could use a friend.  Bastian had felt uncomfortably warm, realizing that’s what he was now.  He’d never been anyone’s friend before.  That was enough to get Bastian to the front gate of the Skywalker mansion during his lunch break.

 

Finn paused at a door at the end of the passage.  He glanced back at Bastian hesitantly.  “If Poe seems a little—he doesn’t like being confined to the house and he’s bored and he might still be in some pain even though he says he isn’t and--,”

 

“Doll,” Bastian said, stopping Finn’s attempts.  “Trust me, whatever it is, I’ve seen worse.”

 

Finn exhaled heavily.  “Right.  So have I, which is why—when he gets into his dark mood I don’t pay it any mind.  And, besides the glass, he has been handling this very well.  I mean, he doesn’t yell at me.  Not even once.  Just Han and Kes, and Papa sometimes.”

 

“He better not be yelling at you,” Bastian growled, raising his fist and knocking on the door. 

 

“Come,” came an annoyed response.  Bastian raised an eyebrow before moving around Finn, turning the doorknob, and letting himself in.  It was a room of iron and glass, with green leafy plants, which Bastian didn’t recognize.  He couldn’t help but stare around, looking up at full trees _inside the house_.  Rich people.  What will they think of next?

 

“Bastian!  Finally, someone who will give me a straight answer,” Poe heaved himself up so he was sitting straight in his seat, his left leg supported on a low footstool.  “Finn, love, you’re back early.  Have you finished with classes for the day?”

 

“Yes, dragon.”  Finn approached Poe quickly, leaning down to kiss him on the lips.  “My afternoon class was canceled.”

 

“Good.  You should have taken more time before returning to school,” Poe murmured, reaching up to rub Finn’s cheek.

 

“You say that, and yet you wanted to go back to the studio two days after we got back,” Finn chuckled.

 

“I’m a terrible example,” Poe sighed in agreement.  “I’ll still be apologizing to Dad and Han when I’m eighty.”

 

“Yes, you probably will be,” Finn nodded.  He looked over his shoulder at Bastian, who was apparently studying one of the orange trees.  “Bastian came by to see how we were doing.”

 

“Liar,” Poe said gently.  “He came to see how you were doing and you dragged him here to see me.”

 

“Oh, I volunteered,” Bastian supplied, turning away from the tree, perturbed to find it was real.  Crossing his arms, Bastian made his way over to the pair.  “It sounds like you’ve been giving Kes a hard time.”

 

“I know, I know,” Poe shook his head.  “I’ve been awful.  I don’t see why that’s any of your concern though.”

 

“I like Kes,” Bastian shrugged.  “You shouldn’t be an ass to him.”

 

Poe raised an eyebrow.  “Oh really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Poe cast a glance over Bastian.  “Tell me, should I be expecting a new brother or a new stepfather?”

 

“Poe,” Finn warned, “don’t be like that.”

 

“Neither, as a matter of fact,” Bastian said as haughtily as he could.  “But thanks for asking.  I’ll let Kes know.”

 

“Please don’t,” Poe groaned, rubbing his free hand across his eyes.  “Sorry.”

 

“I actually came here to tell you that we miss you at the studio,” Bastian said, changing the topic. 

 

“Is everything okay?”  Poe perked up.  “I keep asking Snap, but he won’t tell me anything.  Who’s managing my sessions?”

 

“Iolo and I have taken over the lessons we could,” Bastian shrugged.  “Neither of us are duelers, so those clients are working with your in-laws.”  Bastian shook his head, missing the incredulous looks Finn and Poe sent him.  “I’ll take you and your rotten attitude any day over—I know he’s your dad, Finn, but he scares me.  He stands there watching my lessons, not saying anything--,”

 

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘ _my in-laws_ ,’” Poe gasped shocked.

 

Bastian blinked.  “Yeah?  The dowagers?”

 

“They’re at the studio,” Finn asked, squinting.

 

“Every day,” Bastian nodded, glancing between the affianced pair.  “No one mentioned that to you?”

 

Poe turned to Finn, ready to demand an explanation but Finn looked as dumbfounded as Poe felt so he rounded on Bastian.  “Why the hell are the dowagers at the studio?”

 

“Well,” Bastian drew out, “they’re covering most of your clients.  They started coming by last week for a few hours.”

 

“Luke and Leia,” Poe tried to clarify.

 

“I’m not on first name basis with _that_ ,” Bastian said with wide eyes.

 

“They said they were working on the wedding,” Finn whispered, pressing his fingers to his lips nervously.

 

“Don’t get me started on the wedding,” Bastian groaned, flopping back on the bench behind him.  “If this is what goes into having a wedding, then I glad no one in their right mind would accept my proposal.”

 

“Bastian,” Finn started, reaching out, but Bastian waved it away.

 

“My office is filled with china that costs more than I do,” Bastian complained, rubbing his temple.  “There is silverware all over Iolo’s desk.  I was working the front desk and all I did for two hours was accept deliveries of candles and napkins and tablecloths and I don’t know where to put all that!”

 

“Bastian, you might be contributing more to my wedding than I have,” Poe said, staring at the man across from him.

 

“I sincerely hope you’re lying,” Bastian muttered, covering his face with his hands.

 

“He is,” Finn replied, sending a quick glare to Poe, who meekly sat back.  “Well, um, thank you—for everything.”

 

Bastian snorted.  “No need, doll.  I shoved the candles in a closet and the rest went in Snap’s office.  It’s his problem now.”

 

“Well, look at that,” Kes grinned, walking into the conservatory.  “My son is sitting, talking not yelling--,”

 

“Dad, I’m twenty-nine-years-old--,”

 

“Could have fooled me,” Kes mumbled, walking over to the group, stopping to give Bastian’s shoulder a quick squeeze.  “You came by.”

 

“I did,” Bastian nodded, looking up.  “I didn’t realize it was a secret that the dowagers were at the studio.”

 

“Ah.”  Kes winced slightly.  “Yes, that was a bit of a secret.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Bastian apologized uncertainly.

 

“It’s not your fault,” Kes replied.

 

“This is touching and confusing,” Poe interrupted, drawing Kes’s attention, “but what is going on?”

 

“We decided not to stress you further,” Kes said slowly, “and to give you one less thing to worry about when you should be focusing on healing.”

 

“By giving my job away?”

 

“Not permanently,” Bastian rolled his eyes.  “We’re not even splitting your salary.”

 

“You mean to tell me,” Poe narrowed his eyes, “that everyone is doing my job for free?”

 

“Yeah,” Bastian shrugged.  “Of course we are.”

 

“But—why?”

 

“Well, if I knew you were here complaining and whining,” Bastian grumbled, “I would have reconsidered.  But I should get back to work,” he announced, standing up.  “Some of us still have to work for our money.”

 

“Very funny,” Poe said, staring at Bastian, who received a hug from Finn and a pat on the back from Kes.

 

“One more thing,” Bastian pausing in the doorway.  “Did you meet someone named Aline after the accident?”

 

“Yeah,” Finn beamed.  “She took Poe and I to the doctor.  Do you know her?”

 

Bastian swallowed.  “I used to.  Feel better, you two.  I’ll see you later.”

 

“Alright,” Poe declared after Bastian had disappeared, “can someone fill me in on what is happening?  Is there something I should know, because as far as I knew Dad wasn’t making friends with my co-workers.”

 

“Poe, you’re acting petulant again,” Finn murmured.

 

“I’m allowed to,” Poe responded.  “No one is telling me anything, and the last time this happened Luke was plotting my death and my fiancé was days away from having a nervous breakdown!”

 

“Papa didn’t want you to die.”

 

“Don’t humor me; I know he was wishing for something similar.”

 

“Finn, could I have a moment with my son,” Kes asked with a smile that Poe knew meant he had crossed a line.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Finn nodded, straightening from where he had been leaning against the arm of Poe’s seat.  “Don’t forget to stretch your knee,” he told Poe, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

 

“I will, my love,” Poe promised, giving Finn’s hand a squeeze.

 

Kes waited until Finn had left and closed the door behind him before rounding on Poe with crossed arms.  “Your wedding is in less than a month and you are perilously close to having your best man and your father leave you to hobble down that aisle alone.  The only reason you haven’t scared your fiancé away is because he is under the impression you have reasons to complain, and I assure you that you do not.”

 

Poe bowed his head.  “I’m going to lose my mind if I have to spend another day sitting and staring at the walls.”

 

“You sound so much like your mother,” Kes said exasperatedly.  “She threw a candlestick at me once.”

 

“She _did_?  When,” Poe demanded with a big smile.

 

Kes groaned.  “You shouldn’t look so happy that I have been used as target practice by my wife _and_ my son.”

 

“Dad,” Poe whined, “tell me.  What did you do?”

 

Kes stared.  “I beg your pardon.  Why do you assume I did something?  We should have named you Poe Bey, I swear to God.”

 

“Why else would she have thrown a candlestick at you?”

 

“Because your mother, the love of my life, was a force of nature,” Kes grumbled, kneeling next to Poe’s out-stretched leg and slowly unbinding the brace.  Kes glanced up at Poe’s expectant face and continued with a sigh, “It was when she was pregnant with you.  She was having trouble sleeping.”

 

“And what did you do?”

 

“I,” Kes said slowly, placing the brace to the side, “had the audacity to fall asleep.  Thus, the only course of action was to throw a heavy candlestick—and the lit candle in it—at me.”

 

“Oh my God,” Poe breathed.  “Were you okay?”

 

“There’s filial concern,” Kes drawled drily, griping Poe’s left foot and thigh and slowly drawing them together, bending the knee.  “Her aim was off; my chair was scorched and I got a scar.  She, like you, seemed to think I deserved it.”

 

Poe’s shoulders shook.  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” Poe gasped between snickers, “but that’s hilarious.  Ow!”

 

“My pain for yours,” Kes said unsympathetically, continuing to bend Poe’s knee until his ankle was flush against his thigh.  “This is why I like Finn; he has a supply of human sympathy you lack.”

 

“Finn is the best,” Poe agreed easily, gripping the arms of his seat as Kes started to straighten his leg.  “I’m lucky he sees anything in me.”

 

“Well, blatant amusement at your father’s assault aside,” Kes joked, “you have redeeming qualities.” Kes smiled up at Poe.  “Your mother would be very proud of the man you became.”

 

“I’ve been a whiny child for weeks,” Poe countered, wiping a hand quickly across his sweaty forehead as his knee fully straightened before Kes began to bend it again.

 

“You have,” Kes agreed.  “That doesn’t mitigate the fact that you have grown to be a determined, caring, and strong man.  If anything, your complaining gives me further incentive to pray you are never injured again.”

 

Poe blinked, his eyes suddenly heavy.  “Thank you, Dad.”

 

“Of course, son.  After this, I think you can try standing, if you feel up to it.”

 

“Oh God, finally!”

 

** _One week later_ **

 

“Han,” Finn called, knocking on Han’s bedroom door, “do you have a pair of cufflinks I can borrow?”

 

“What happened to yours,” Han asked, opening the door with shaving cream on his face.

 

“I think Papa sent them to get polished,” Finn shrugged.  “You know, for the wedding.”

 

“The wedding?  I haven’t heard of it,” Han said, rolling his eyes.  “Check the top drawer of the chest,” he offered, pointing as he walked back into his small water closet.  “Take whatever you need.”

 

“Thanks, Han.”  Finn pulled out the drawer and examined his options.  He decided to opt for the simple silver square cufflinks and started to thread them through his cuffs.  He noticed an envelope pushed to the back of the drawer, and pulled it out curiously.  Finn saw his name written on the front in Poe’s handwriting.  When had Poe written him a letter?  Finn flipped the envelope over and worked the flap open.

 

“Put that down.”

 

Finn looked over at Han, who had gone pale and was staring at him with wide eyes.

 

Finn glanced down at the envelope and back at Han.  “It has my name on it.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it’s for you.”

 

“I think that’s definition of ‘it’s for you,’” Finn squinted.  “Why don’t you want me to read it?”

 

“That’s not—it doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t apply,” Han stammered, moving forward.  Finn dodged away, moving back to the door.

 

“It’s from Poe.  Is it about the wedding?  Is it for the wedding?  Did he write vows?”  Han leapt at Finn, who dove out of the way, ending up behind the armchair in Han’s room.  “Why is this so important?”

 

“It’s not important,” Han growled, stalking around the chair while Finn hurried around the other side, making a break for the open door.

 

“Then why are you chasing me—hey!  Let go!”

 

“Drop the letter and I will,” Han said, muffled against the back of Finn’s shoulder as he used his grip around Finn’s waist and arms to lift Finn off his feet.

 

“What in God’s name,” Luke declared, walking into the room.  He took in the scene blandly.  “I’m almost scared to ask.”

 

“Papa!”  Finn flailed slightly, but Han’s grip didn’t loosen.  “Han won’t let me read my letter!”

 

“It’s not for you,” Han repeated with a tad more heat.

 

“It says ‘Finn’!”

 

“Give it to me, angel,” Luke said calmly, walking over to the pair and holding out his hand.  Finn glanced between Han and his father before lifting his hand with the letter so Luke could take it.  Luke opened the envelope quickly and took out the sheet of paper, unfolding it and beginning to read.

 

“Now will you let me go,” Finn asked exasperatedly, kicking his feet slightly.  Han dropped him and took a step back, leaving Finn to fall to the ground.

 

“Luke, I should explain,” Han started.  Luke held up a hand, continuing to read.  Finn pushed himself to his feet and approached his father, who stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.

 

“August,” Luke muttered.  “This was written before Poe reunited with his father, I assume?”

 

Han rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Luke’s eyes.  “Right.  We didn’t know it was Kes.  We thought--,”

 

“Yes, I gathered that from the missive,” Luke said, returning his attention to the letter in his hand.  “And you were tasked with delivering this to Finn should the worst happen, correct?”

 

“What does that mean,” Finn asked, glancing back at Han.

 

“That was the plan,” Han nodded.  “I should have burned it after, but I forgot about it.”

 

“I see,” Luke said mildly.  He turned his attention to his son.  “Angel, this was the letter Poe wrote for you to read if he had died.”

 

“ _Died_?  Why would—did he think he was going to die,” Finn asked frantically, reaching out to snatch the letter but Luke moved it out of his reach.

 

“I gather he thought he would be killed by a mysterious man who was asking about him,” Luke answered.  “The man, however, was Kes, and thus the letter became irrelevant.”

 

“Poe thought he was going to be _killed_?”  Finn shook his head, thinking back to early August, before Kes had appeared.  Poe had been on edge, especially when he had come to Finn’s room that night.  Poe and Kes had met the day after that.  Had Poe come to Finn’s room to say goodbye?  Did Poe think that would be the last time he would see Finn?  And he hadn’t said a word.  “He didn’t tell me.”

 

“He didn’t want to worry you,” Han supplied hastily, not liking the closed-off look overtaking Finn’s face.

 

“He thought he was going to die and he didn’t tell me.”

 

“Perhaps you should read the letter, my angel,” Luke suggested worriedly.  “It may--,”

 

“Poe!”  Finn stormed past his father and into the hallway.  “Poe, where are you?!”

 

“What?”  Came Poe’s responding shout.  “Finn!  What’s wrong?”

 

Finn started off towards the guestroom Poe was staying in, where it sounded like Poe’s voice was coming from.  He heard Luke and Han hurry to catch up with him and Finn broke into a run to keep Han from catching him again. 

 

“Finn!”  Poe had managed a total of six steps beyond his room before he saw Finn sprinting towards him with Han and Luke behind him.  “Finn, what’s going on?”

 

Finn stumbled to a stop, staring at Poe.  “You—you can walk?”

 

“I’m working on it,” Poe shrugged, stepping up to Finn and griping Finn’s arms just below his shoulders.  Finn gaped at Poe’s left arm, free of its sling.  “It was going to be a surprise.  Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

Finn blinked, remembering why he had been angry in the first place.  “You thought you were about to die.”

 

Poe blinked.  “What?”

 

“You thought you were going to be killed, and you didn’t tell me.”

 

“How did you--,” Poe started, looking over at Han, who shrugged apologetically and pointed at the paper in Luke’s hand.  “Oh.  Thanks, Han.  That’s just great.”

 

“You have to—you can’t just,” Finn stumbled over his word, clutching Poe’s jacket lapels.  “I thought we were done with the dramatics,” Finn muttered.

 

“We are, my love,” Poe said softly, pressing his lips to Finn’s forehead.  “I was—there was a lot going on.”

 

“And there was no time to mention it,” Finn asked, incredulous.  “You didn’t have a single opportunity to tell me?”

 

“I--,” Poe glanced over at Han and Luke, who were looking increasingly uncomfortable.  “We should talk about this privately, love.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Finn said regally, drawing himself up.  “If you ever have the slightest suspicion you might be killed and you choose to _write me a letter_ instead of _talking to me_ , husband or not, I will kill you myself and then bring you back to life to yell at you some more!”

 

“To be clear,” Poe asked, a tentative smile slipping onto his face, “the wedding is still happening?”

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “Of course it is.  I love you, you idiot.”

 

“And I’m so thankful you do,” Poe grinned, drawing Finn in for a tight embrace.  “I love you so much.”

 

“We’ll leave you to it,” Luke interrupted kindly.  “Angel, would you like to read the letter?”

 

“You didn’t even read it,” Poe asked, laughing.  Finn squirmed a little to look back at his father.

 

“I don’t think I need to,” Finn said, “do you,” he asked Poe.

 

Poe bit his bottom lip, thinking.  “It’s—I’m not sure--,”

 

“It’s not necessary,” Luke said firmly, folding the letter and sliding it into his inside pocket.  “Much of it is not applicable, and what is, I feel certain Poe can tell you himself.”

 

“That I can,” Poe nodded.  “And I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for the wedding? Cause I am :)  
> As always, thank you for the absolutely wonderful comments and kudos! You make working on this story all the better, and I already enjoyed it ;)


	14. Chapter 13: December 3, 1927-The Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right before this chapter is where the prologue takes place, so if you want a refresher, skip back and re-read that before starting this chapter.
> 
> Yes, this chapter is very late. But I hope you still enjoy it!

“Wake up, you lazy bag of bones!”

 

Poe cracked one eye open before a combination of ice and cold water spilled over his head.

 

“What the hell?”  Poe shot up in his bed, only to have his arms grabbed as he was physically lifted out of his bed.  “This better be a bad dream or I swear to God--,”

 

“Do I look like I’m joking, cadet,” Han hollered in his face.  “You better be dressed and at attention in three minutes or you can kiss breakfast goodbye!”

 

Poe staggered when he was dropped to his feet.  He ran his hands through his soaked his hair, shivering from the cold water and the wind from the window which had been opened at some point.  Poe shot a glare in Han’s direction before turning purposefully to his closet.  Han walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  The small clock on Poe’s bedroom table read 0427.  He groaned again as he quickly stripped and started putting on his wedding suit which had been tailored about six times at this point.  Poe wasn’t even sure it would fit at this point, but was pleasantly surprised to find the slate blue morning jacket was snug but not uncomfortable.

 

There was a rapid series of bangs on his bedroom door and then Kes’s voice shouted, “You’re late!  You think your husband is going to put up with your lazy ass?”

 

Poe pulled the door open with a scowl.  “If you think Luke is doing this to Finn, you’re out of your mind.”  A cup of lukewarm coffee was shoved into his hand and Poe drained it in one swallow. 

 

“That’s why Rey is in charge of this portion of the day,” Han smirked from his position by the door.  “Now, on the double, cadet!  You can’t keep royalty waiting!”

 

*****

 

“Rey, I don’t think—ow—this is—hey—necessary,” Finn said, his teeth chattering in the early morning dew and chill.

 

“You’ll run off and find him if I don’t,” Rey stated matter-of-factly, tightening the knot binding his legs to the trunk of a substantial oak tree she had scouted weeks ago.

 

“Poe doesn’t have to put up with this,” Finn whined as Rey doubled back to the binding around his wrists, giving them an extra pull in retaliation.

 

“I’m sure Han and Kes are living up to their reputations,” Rey smirked, coming around to stand in front of Finn.  “Now, I’m going to leave you here.  Karé, Bastian, and I will be the decoys.”

 

“What if he doesn’t find me?  You’re just going to tie me up and leave me alone?  I don’t even know where we are!”  Finn had been woken up by Rey around four in the morning and had been allowed to get dressed before she had tied a blindfold over his eyes and stuck him in a car.  The blindfold was going to be the first thing to go once Rey left.

 

“Of course he’ll find you,” Rey dismissed with an eyeroll.  “I’ve never heard of a groom _not_ finding his beloved, and this tradition goes back to--,”

 

A hand suddenly rested on Finn’s head and he shouted out in surprise.

 

“Sorry, doll.  _Merde_ , you Russians are crazy.  You know you could just meet up at a church and avoid all this?”

 

“It’s tradition, Bastian,” Rey growled, hitting Bastian solidly on the shoulder.  “You remember your role, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Bastian muttered.  “I’ll do my best not to ruin the sacred, insane tradition of holding Poe’s fiancé for ransom.”

 

“Good.  Finn, we’re leaving now.  With any luck, it will be less than an hour--,”

 

“ _An hour_?  Rey, I’ll freeze to death!”  Finn listened for a reply but none came.  Finn sighed, knocking his head back against the tree trunk.  He then began rubbing the knot of the blindfold against the bark.  If nothing else, he would get that off before Poe showed up.

 

*****

 

Poe was tossed bodily from the car by Kes, who Poe was fairly certain was enjoying this too much.  Poe looked around at the thicket of trees, which expanded to a forest at the bottom of the hill.  It was still early enough that the morning dew was still drifting around the ground, creating a creeping damp sensation.

 

“Finn’s somewhere in here,” Poe asked glancing over his shoulder.  Kes was leaning out of the car’s backseat window with a bright smile on your face.

 

“Better find him before someone else carries him off.”

 

Poe rolled his eyes.  “You two were wasted not going onto the stage.”

 

Kes laughed before Han stepped on the accelerator and the car took off along the road, leaving Poe alone.  He shoved his hands in his pockets and started off into the woods, noticing there was an animal path of some kind.  That seemed as good a place to start as any.  After about ten minutes Poe was seriously questioning why he had thought a December wedding was a good idea.  Dawn hadn’t broken yet and the frost under his feet was slowly sinking into the soles of his feet through his shoes.  It didn’t help that Poe was certain Finn was waiting in some cozy cottage somewhere in the woods while Poe jumped icy streams and climbed over fallen trees.

 

“Poe!  Over here!”

 

Poe glanced to his right and saw Karé, dressed in what must be her old wedding dress, waving excitedly.  “They dragged you into this, Karé?”

 

“Oh, I practically begged to be a part of this,” she grinned, watching Poe duck under a low limb as he came to stand in front of her.  “Snap and I didn’t do this when we got married.”

 

“Well, you didn’t miss out on much,” Poe mumbled.  “So, where’s Finn?”

 

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” Karé laughed.

 

Casting his eyes up to the sky, Poe prayed for patience.  He held out a small pouch of coins, which Karé reached for before Poe snatched it away.  “You are not my beloved.  But if you tell me where I may find him, this shall be yours.”

 

Karé giggled, enjoying the theatrics.  “You are cunning and resourceful.  I tell you, follow the next creek north and you will find your beloved.”

 

“Thanks, Karé,” Poe said, cracking a small smile and handing over the coins.  “I’ll see you later.”

 

“Smile, Poe!  Isn’t this fun?”

 

“Oh, I’m having the time of my life,” he called back, setting off in the direction Karé pointed, her laughter echoing off the trees around him.  It was another few minutes until Poe found the creek.  He brushed the frost off the side of a tree, finding where the moss was the thickest and started walking north.  Sunlight was just beginning to filter through the low brush as dawn neared.  Poe kicked up some fallen leaves as he followed the creek, dreaming of a nice fire and warm bread and hot coffee.

 

“Hey, Dameron!”

 

“Bastian?”

 

“The one and only,” Bastian said cockily, reaching out to help Poe jump across the creek.  “You know this is madness, right?”

 

“Well,” Poe drew out, “it’s not the way I would choose to start my wedding day.  Where did all of you hide Finn?”  Bastian’s jaw clenched shut and Poe groaned.  “Really?”

 

“Rey will cut my thumbs off if I don’t,” Bastian mumbled, embarrassed.

 

Poe winced sympathetically; Rey’s threats always came with a certain amount of detail and likelihood that it was hard to know if she was joking.  “Alright.  You are not my beloved.  If you continue to hinder my way I will be forced to kill you.”

 

“Rey said it was ‘fight’ me,” Bastian blinked.

 

“I’m improvising.  I’m also cold and want to get out of these godforsaken woods,” Poe growled.

 

“Right,” Bastian swallowed, looking at Poe askance.  “You are truly strong and devoted.  I tell you, at the next fork, follow the stream northeast and you will find your beloved.”

 

“Thanks,” Poe said, clapping Bastian on the shoulder.  “Do you have a ride home?”

 

“Snap and Karé,” Bastian nodded.  “But thanks for asking, Dameron.  You should probably hurry; Finn must be sick of this too.”

 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Poe said, holding his hands up.  “I’ll see you at the church.”

 

Poe moved around Bastian, and about ten minutes later the creek branched off.  By that time the sun had finally risen above the tree line and Poe was relieved to walk along the stream as patches of sunlight began to warm his shoulders and face.  At one point Poe had to scale a large tree that had fallen possibly the night before.  He managed not to ruin his trousers by some miracle, but his shoes could no longer be called polished.  He’d have to find time to do that later, before the ceremony.  He paused briefly to blow into his hands and looked around, hoping to spot where Finn would be hiding.  He caught a glimpse of blue, and sighed.  One more clue then.

 

“Rey!”  Poe turned his back on the creek and took off through the woods.  The sooner he got through this, the sooner he could take a nap.  “Rey, come on!”

 

“Am I your beloved,” she called back, stepping up onto a stump and waiting for Poe to reach her.

 

“You are fair and fine, but I seek one who warms my heart and knows my soul.  Will you help me find him,” Poe panted out, his left knee aching at the exertion.

 

“That sounded like you meant it,” Rey teased playfully.

 

“I do mean it.  Now, please, where’s Finn so we can get out of here,” Poe practically begged.

 

“Continue due east,” Rey grinned, pointing.  “Oh, and you’ll need this.”

 

Poe’s eyes widened as he tentatively took the hunter’s knife from her.  “Rey.  What did you do to Finn?”

 

“You’ll see,” she winked before making shooing motions.  “Hurry up before he gets frostbite.”

 

“Oh God,” Poe breathed, adjusting his grip on the knife and running off towards the sunlight.  “Finn!  Finn, can you hear me?”

 

“Poe,” came an echoing response.  Poe adjusted his path accordingly.

 

“Finn, can you keep talking?  So I can find you?”

 

“Yeah, I can do that.  I can talk.  What should I talk about?”

 

Poe managed to puff out a short laugh.  “Anything you want to.”

 

“Well, I almost got my right wrist free,” Finn’s voice called.  There was less of an echo now; Poe was close.  “The blindfold took me longer than I thought it would.  Rey tied it really tight.  But if you were maybe five minutes later I would have gotten myself free, I swear!”

 

“I know, my love,” Poe replied.  “I believe you.”  And Poe emerged into a small clearing and saw Finn bound to a tall tree mere meters in front of him.  “Hi, Finn.”

 

“Poe,” Finn beamed, even as his hands and feet were uncomfortably numb.  “Rey said it would take you an hour.”

 

“She must have forgotten that when you’re at the end, I tend to halve the time,” Poe said with a wink, approaching and placing a quick kiss on Finn’s lips.  “I didn’t expect her to take this ransom thing so seriously.”

 

“She must have been planning this for weeks,” Finn agreed as Poe circled around the tree and set to work on the rope binding Finn’s wrists.  Poe hummed in acknowledgement, angling the knife so it wouldn’t nick Finn’s skin.  Poe sawed at the thick coils in silence, listening to his fiancé’s breathing.  Once Poe had Finn’s right hand free, Finn jerked his arms forward, attempting to ease the tension in his shoulders.  The problem was that with his legs still bound to the tree trunk and the motion threw him off balance.  Finn started to fall forward with a grunt, but Poe’s free arm shot around to brace Finn’s chest.  “Thank you,” Finn breathed.

 

“Of course, my love.”  With his hand pressed firmly against the center of Finn’s chest, Poe slowly circled back to face Finn.  “Here, put your hands on my shoulders.  I’ll have you free in a second.”  Finn did so and Poe slowly knelt and started to work on the double coils of rope around Finn’s knees.  “Are you excited?”

 

“To be free from this tree?  Extremely.”

 

“I meant to be married, but I see where your priorities are,” Poe laughed.

 

Finn’s fingers tightened on Poe’s shoulders.  “Why do you need to ask that?  I’d marry you right now if I could.”

 

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Poe glanced up and smiled.  “You’re beautiful.”

 

“And you’re stunning but please, Poe, get the ropes off me.”

 

“As you wish,” Poe nodded, patting Finn’s hip gently in apology.  He finished cutting the ropes and stood quickly to catch Finn as he stumbled away.  “Are you hurt?”

 

“Mildly mortified and cold, but other than that…” Finn trailed off with a shrug before he wrapped his arms across Poe’s shoulders and embraced him tightly.

 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, love,” Poe teased, pulling Finn flush against him.  “For a while there I was surprised when someone wasn’t trying to tie you up and carry you off.”

 

Finn snorted against Poe’s neck.  “We’ve come a long way.”

 

“We have,” Poe agreed lightly.  He heard someone clear his throat behind him and Poe turned to look.

 

“As touching as this is, we have a whole day,” Han smirked.

 

“The ceremony isn’t until two,” Poe countered even as Finn pulled away a bit as Luke and Kes came through the woods to stand next to Han.

 

“Oh, you didn’t think this was it, did you,” Luke asked with a sly smile Poe didn’t like the looks of.

 

“I did, actually,” Finn admitted with a frown.

 

“Finn, you’re with Han and I,” Kes said, motioning for Finn to come to him.

 

“What are you going to do,” Poe asked, grabbing Finn’s hand to keep him by his side. 

 

“Another old tradition.  Don’t worry,” Kes assured his son, “this one is less—involved.”

 

“Poe, you are coming with me,” Luke said.  “Finn, Han, and your father will join us for lunch shortly.”

 

Poe looked over at his fiancé for confirmation.  Finn shrugged.  “I guess I’ll see you soon?”

 

“Alright.  Stay safe, my love.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Poe added as Kes casually draped an arm around Finn’s shoulders.

 

“Dragon, that rules out exactly nothing.”                      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: The "ransom" tradition that I riffed on in this chapter is a real thing, although it usually involves the groom going to the bride's family house, asking for his bride, and the bride's family sends out other family members, asking for more money each time until the bride actually comes out. I kinda built it up, but with Rey orchestrating it it was bound to be a bit intense.  
> Also, the wedding day is in three parts. Next up is the ceremony (and the usual craziness that accompanies that) :)
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who read this, and double thanks to those who leave comments and kudos! I'm so overwhelmed by how amazing all of you are :D


	15. Chapter 14: December 3, 1927-Part Two

“Well,” Luke asked, coming to stand next to Poe.  Poe stared at the neat three-story townhouse Luke had parked the car in front of us.  Trimmed hedges abutted the low wrought iron fence in front of the red brick house.

 

“It’s nice.  Why?”

 

Luke held up a key ring with a single key on it.  “It’s the new Dameron-Skywalker residence.  Unless you have any firm objections, that is.”

 

Poe stared, mouth gaping.  “You’re kidding.”

 

“I am not,” Luke answered with a small smile.  “Would you like to go in?”

 

Poe snatched the key out of Luke’s fingers and hurried to the front door, taking a moment to appreciate the gate that separated the house from the street.  Luke followed after, watching as Poe’s hand shook as he slid the key into the lock and turned it.  He paused on the doorstep, allowing Poe a moment to look around the warm yellow entrance hall.

 

“The kitchen is downstairs,” Luke mentioned, closing the door behind him.  “This floor is mainly for entertaining.  The second floor has studies for the two of you and a couple guestrooms.  The third floor is your living quarters.”

 

Poe didn’t appear to be listening; he was running his hand across the surface of a long polished oak table.

 

“If you don’t like any of the furnishings, you can make a list and Leia will be happy to replace them while—while the two of you are away,” Luke continued.

 

Poe turned to face Luke.  “This is really ours?”

 

“Of course,” Luke nodded.  “It’s Leia’s wedding present to you both.”

 

Shaking his head, Poe looked up at the tall windows flanking the door before spinning slowly to take in the dark wood staircase, covered in soft cream carpet.  “She really shouldn’t have.”

 

“Trust me, it was her pleasure,” Luke chuckled.  “She wouldn’t have it any other way.”  Luke watched Poe open the first door on the left to reveal a formal sitting room in blue and white.  “I did, however, have some small input.”

 

“What was that,” Poe asked, glancing back at Luke.  Luke smiled and inclined his head towards the main hallway through the house.

 

“Leia thought there should be a library, but I’m sure Finn will prefer to keep his books in his study,” he said as he led the way down the hall.  “That left one room without a purpose.”

 

Luke stopped in front of a door, waiting for Poe to open the door and step in.  Poe sent Luke a curious look before turning the doorknob and entering.  “Oh my God,” he breathed.

 

“I’m not quite a god as of yet,” Luke jested, looking around the studio, satisfying himself that it had turned out how he had planned.  The windows showed the small garden at the back of the house, allowing the winter light to shine into the cream and brown room.  Against one wall were Poe’s rapiers mounted. 

 

“This is where Dad hid them,” Poe murmured, carefully walking around the mat on the floor so he wouldn’t scuff it with his shoes.  “This is amazing, Luke.  Thank you.”  Then a thought occurred to him.  “Wait—did Finn know about this?”

 

“No, this will be a surprise for him when Han and your father return him from whatever their current adventure is.”

 

“Any idea what they’re doing,” Poe asked, taking his sharpened sword off the wall and swiping it back and forth, enjoying the hum that followed the blade’s motions.

 

“I would guess it is some variation of fighting for his beloved’s hand,” Luke answered casually, barely containing a smirk at Poe’s alarmed face.

 

“They _wouldn’t_.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Luke allowed, although he was fairly certain Han at least had something planned along those lines.  “I’m sure they expect that of me.  However, I believe you’ve been fighting me for my son’s hand since we met.”

 

“That’s what it feels like,” Poe agreed, glancing down at the sword in his hand.  “Still, we could have a friendly bout.  For tradition’s sake?”

 

“Ah, I had hoped you might feel that way.”  Luke gestured to the sideboard by the nearest window, where a long box was placed innocently.  “Perhaps we can raise the stakes and both use real rapiers.”

 

Poe frowned, walking over to the table, placing his rapier to the side.  He undid the clasps on the front of the leather case and lifted the lid.  The sheathed rapier rested on red velvet, the ornate curled metal of the knuckle bow nestled against a single black leather glove.  Poe picked the sword up, noticing that even in its sheath it was remarkably balanced.  Drawing it out Poe felt his heart stutter and fly to his throat.  There above the fuller was a carved mark, a cursive S with a small bumblebee.

 

“Where—how,” Poe stammered, staring over at Luke, who looked as nervous as Poe had ever seen him.

 

“It took some searching.  A baron currently residing in England happened to have this in his collection.  He was kind enough to part with it.”

 

“My mother made this,” Poe said slowly, rotating the rapier in his hand, watching the light reflect off the polished blade.  “ _She made this_.”

 

“She was a remarkable craftswoman,” Luke said kindly.  “I am told the baron has only had that blade sharpened twice in over twenty years.”

 

“The blades never go dull,” Poe murmured in wonder.  “It was a secret of hers.  She never even told me.”

 

“As I say, quite remarkable.”

 

Poe glanced over his shoulder at Luke.  “I can’t believe you found—I can’t thank you enough.”

 

“Continue to take care of my son.  There’s nothing more I need,” Luke replied sincerely, meeting Poe’s gaze.  “There’s nothing else in the world.”

 

“Always,” Poe answered, holding out his hand.  Luke gave him a small smile before grasping Poe’s hand firmly.  They stood there, studying each other, until Poe cleared his throat.  “Shall we?”

 

“As you please,” Luke nodded, already shedding his jacket.  “A sword such as that deserves a proper welcome.”

 

*****

 

“Poe!  Can you believe we have a _house_?  Aunt Leia didn’t say a word,” Finn exclaimed, rushing into the fencing studio at the rear of _their_ home.  Poe and Luke had been preparing to begin the next set which Poe promptly forgot about as he moved to catch Finn around the waist with one arm and a laugh.

 

“Yes, my love, isn’t this amazing?  I think we owe her our first child,” Poe said as Finn tucked his head against Poe’s neck.

 

“First?  How many do you plan to have,” Luke asked, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady as he went to replace Poe’s old rapier on the wall.

 

Poe blinked, realizing what he had said.  He and Finn had never discussed having children.  Carefully Poe pulled away to see Finn’s reaction.

 

“At least two,” Finn said, smiling up at him, still resting his head on Poe’s shoulder.  “Don’t you think so?”  

 

“Two or three,” Poe answered, feeling the familiar sensation of warmth spread across his chest.  It was the feeling his associated with Finn, and only Finn.

 

“Perfect,” Finn grinned, straightening to place a kiss on Poe’s cheek.  “Can we have lunch now?  I’m famished.”

 

Luke snorted.  “No need to be dramatic, angel.  We’ll have sandwiches in your dining room.”  Poe and Finn exchanged incredulous looks at the idea of having a dining room.  “Are Kes and Han with you?”

 

“Yes, they’re somewhere,” Finn said, moving to give his father a hug as Poe sheathed his mother’s rapier and placed it back in its case.  “I think I won your hand, Poe.”

 

“Thank God for that,” Poe laughed, joining Luke and Finn as they made their way out of the studio.  “It would be such a hassle to call off the wedding now.”

 

“Yeah, I’m not sure what your dad was planning,” Finn drew out, “but he seemed surprised, so I think we’re getting married.”

 

“Excellent,” Poe nodded, noticing Kes and Han standing back by the front door.  Luke opened a door to reveal a neat dining room.  “I’ll be right in.  I’m going to fetch Dad and Han.”  Finn smiled at him before directing all of his attention to a platter of sandwiches.  Poe left his soon to be husband to his meal and wandered back to the entrance hall.  “Well?  Are you going to join us or—what happened to you?”

 

Han’s hair was a mess, his tie askew, and his eyes were wide, almost haunted.  Kes was in a similar state, although he was holding a handkerchief to his nose as he stared at his son.

 

“Poe, are you certain you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Han asked, voice shaking slightly.

 

Poe raised an eyebrow.  “What are you talking about?”

 

“Finn.  He’s—he’s crazy.”

 

There was a small pause before Poe burst out laughing.  He looked at Han, who was not laughing, and then over at Kes, who just shook his head.

 

“What happened,” Poe asked, laughter dying off.

 

Kes drew his handkerchief away from his nose; Poe’s eyes grew at the blood stains on it.  “We underestimated Finn’s…abilities.”

 

“Why are you bleeding?”  Poe stared.

 

“Because Finn elbowed him in the face,” Han said in a hushed voice, glancing around nervously.

 

“What?”  Poe’s brow furrowed.  “Why?”

 

“Again, your filial concern is somewhat lacking,” Kes muttered thickly, reapplying the fabric to his face as more blood dribbled out of his nose.  “We did not realize the effect of surprising Finn.”

 

Han shook his head.  “We thought we would take him by surprise.  We thought he would be _surprised_ \--,”

 

“Or scared,” Kes added.

 

“—and then we would wrestle a little,” Han continued.  “Let him win.  Say he won your hand.”

 

“And what actually happened,” Poe asked, slightly concerned.  But Finn hadn’t looked injured a minute ago.

 

“He turned into a fury,” Kes answered blandly.  “When I came to he had Han on his knees and was about to kick him in the head.”

 

“ _Came to_?”

 

“When he elbowed Kes, Kes fell back over a table,” Han supplied. 

 

Poe blinked.  “But why would he do that?  Didn’t he know it was you two?”

 

Kes and Han exchanged guilty looks.

 

“Well, we may have turned off the lights--,”

 

“And I was against the masks idea, but Han insisted--,”

 

“Finn!”  Poe called, barely holding himself together.  Footsteps fell behind him and then Finn was next to him, holding a ham sandwich in his hands.  “Han, Dad, I think you owe my fiancé an apology.”

 

Kes and Han gaped at Poe, who smirked to keep the sniggers from spilling out.

 

“It’s alright,” Finn shrugged.  “I didn’t really understand what was happening.”

 

“They didn’t realize that if they attacked you _in the dark_ while _wearing masks_ you might be inclined to fight back,” Poe explained, taking a deep breath.  “And might I just say that I am so happy you’re marrying me in a couple hours.”

 

“I’m happy about that too,” Finn beamed.  “I’m sorry I hit your dad though.”

 

“Don’t be.  You’re part of the family now,” Poe said, sending a wink at his father.  “Isn’t that right, Dad?”

 

Kes’s eyes narrowed at Poe.  “Indeed.”

 

*****

 

“Shouldn’t you be nervous?  Pacing?  Tearing your hair out?”  Rey stood in front of Poe with her hands on her hips.  “You shouldn’t be this calm on your wedding day.”

 

Poe snorted from his seat in the small office in the church that had been sequestered into Poe’s waiting room.  “Well, all of you did a great job of trying to scare the hell out of me today.  Why did you tie Finn to a tree?”

 

“Because he would have wandered off if I didn’t,” Rey answered sensibly.  Behind her Kes cast his eyes upward before taking a sip from his flask.

 

“That…what?”  Poe shook his head.  “This time tomorrow we’ll be on our way to Italy and all of this will be like a distant, weird memory.”

 

Rey’s eyes glinted dangerously and Poe gulped nervously.  “That’s right.  The honeymoon.  How do you feel about that?”

 

“Jesus Christ preserve me,” Han muttered from where he was leaning against the desk pushed back against the wall.

 

“He standing right behind you,” Kes said, jerking his chin at the gilded rendering of Jesus on the cross.  Han glanced over his shoulder and shivered.

 

“Dad,” Poe warned.

 

Kes shrugged.  “Sorry.  Churches make me nervous.”

 

“Have you talked to Finn about the honeymoon,” Rey asked, poking Poe in the shoulder.

 

“Rey, I know you’re trying to scare me,” Poe said patiently.  “It’s not working.”

 

“Is Finn nervous?  You know how he can work himself up over little things,” Rey chirped, a victorious smile coming over her face as Poe froze.

 

“I hate you so much,” Poe snapped, getting to his feet and starting for the door.  Before Poe could grasp the handle, it opened and Bastian stepped in.

 

“Woah, where are you going?”  Bastian closed the door behind him and crossed his arms.  “Can’t you go an hour without seeing him?”

 

“Not when Rey is here, putting thoughts into my head,” Poe growled, sending a glare over his shoulder.  “I just want to ask Finn if--,”

 

“Nope,” Bastian blocked Poe’s way.  “The guests are arriving.  You’ll see him--,”

 

“We could send Bastian to ask,” Rey teased.

 

“God no,” Poe growled.

 

“Ask what,” Bastian directed at Kes, who sent a pained look his way.

 

“Ask whether Finn is comfortable with what generally takes place on a wedding night.”  Kes glanced over at the painting.  “Sorry, Lord.”

 

“We’re going to be turned to pillars of salt in a minute,” Han grumbled.

 

Bastian groaned.  “Come on!  I came down here to escape this topic of conversation!”

 

“What,” everyone else in the room asked, shocked.

 

“Here, give me a sip,” Bastian said, moving to the bench Kes was seated, holding out his hand for the flask.  Kes handed it over and Bastian took a quick pull.  “Finn and his father are talking about it.”

 

“And what is Luke saying,” Poe gasped, bracing himself against the back of the chair he had been sitting in.  “Is he scaring Finn?”

 

“I think Finn is scaring him,” Bastian shrugged.  “Said something along the lines of ‘thank you for the concern, but I’m ready.’  Then I bowed out.”  Bastian took in the completely blissed-out look on Poe’s face and rolled his eyes.  “You two could give sugar a stomachache, I swear to God.”

 

“Let’s stop using God’s name in vain,” Kes moaned, rubbing a hand across his face. 

 

“Maybe you could stop drinking in church,” Poe pointed out.

 

“The priest does it,” Kes muttered, screwing the top back on all the same time.

 

“We are ready for you now,” came the solemn pronouncement from the bishop, who had opened the door without any of them noticing.  “Colonel, if you are ready to escort your son?”

 

“Of course,” Kes said hastily, getting to his feet. 

 

“Rey, we should get upstairs,” Bastian said, jerking his head to the door.  “Every happiness,” he told Poe, patting him on the back as he passed.

 

Rey kissed Poe gently on the cheek.  “I was only teasing.  May God bless your union.”

 

“Thank you both,” Poe smiled as the pair left.

 

“Are you ready,” Han asked, cuffing Poe gently around the ear.

 

“More than I can possibly say,” Poe whispered.  Han nodded once before turning and passing the bishop, conspicuously wiping his finger across his eyes and sniffing.

 

“Well,” Kes said softly, turning Poe in his hands and drawing him into a tight embrace.  “Here we are.”

 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dad,” Poe breathed into his father’s neck, clutching the back of Kes’s jacket in his hands.

 

“I’m so proud of you, son.”  Kes took a deep, shaky breath.  “I’m so happy for you.”

 

“I’m getting married.”

 

“Yes, you are.”  Kes rubbed a hand up and down Poe’s spine.  “I don’t have much advice, I’m afraid.”  Kes turned to kiss his son’s curls.  “Just—try every day to love him more than you did the day before.”

 

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Poe gasped.

 

“It is.  We have a remarkable capacity to love when it’s freely returned.  And Finn loves you so much.”

 

Poe pulled back gently and Kes used his thumbs to wipe the tears away from his son’s eyes.  “Thank you, Dad.”

 

Kes smiled.  “Let’s get you married.”

 

“God yes.”

 

“Blasphemy, Dameron,” the bishop scowled before shaking his head.  “Although you should have heard your father-in-law when I announced it was time.”

 

Poe laughed.  “I can imagine.” 

 

The bishop shook his head and motioned for Kes and Poe to follow him.  The main doors to the nave were closed.  Poe risked a glance up the staircase behind him, where he knew Finn was waiting.  Finn was leaning over the stone railing, and waved when he saw Poe look back at him.  Poe felt his whole body relax; Finn was perfect in his deep violet suit, casually watching as Kes led Poe to the doors.  He didn’t even look nervous.

 

Poe rolled his shoulders back and nodded to the bishop whose hand was poised over the bell rope.  Finn was ready, and that’s all Poe needed to know.

 

The bell rang out.

 

The doors heaved open.

 

And over two hundred people turned to watch Poe make his way down the aisle.                            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! Next chapter will include their vows, the celebration, and the wedding night :3  
> I hope you all enjoyed it! As always, thank you to those who left a comment or kudos. I appreciate all of them and all of you for sticking with this story which is longer than I thought it would be :D


	16. Chapter 15: December 3, 1927-Part Three

Instinctively, Poe raised his arm to cover Finn’s head as he ducked down against the rain of white rice being tossed at them from every which way.  Finn laughed brightly, glancing over, smiling wide.  Poe shook his head in response, even as he couldn’t stop grinning, pulling on their joined hands to rush Finn down the steps and into the waiting car.  The driver closed the door behind them as Poe slid in, dragging Finn almost on top of him in his hurry.

 

“Slow down,” Finn chuckled, pushing himself off of Poe’s legs, where he had ended up sprawled as the car peeled away from the church.  “We have the rest of our lives.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s long enough,” Poe answered his husband, meaning for it to be a joke but sounding far too serious.

 

Finn smiled softly back.  “I seem to remember the bishop saying something about ‘binding us together, in this world and the next.’  Is that long enough for you?”

 

“It’s a start,” Poe nodded, tugging on their still-clasped hands until Finn heaved a put-upon sigh and moved to lean against Poe’s side as Poe’s free arm wrapped around his waist.  Poe stared at the glint of the gold ring on Finn’s right hand, raising it to his lips for place a tender kiss over it.

 

“Poe,” Finn murmured, staring into Poe’s eyes.  Poe waited for him to continue but Finn just sunk his head to Poe’s shoulder with a small, happy sigh.

 

“I must say, I’m reconsidering my stance on royalty,” Poe teased, resting his cheek against the crown of Finn’s head.  “You looked beautiful in a crown.”

 

Finn snorted, his eyes sliding close, remembering the bishop placing a gold and bejeweled crown on his and Poe’s head, symbolizing their commitment to the holy sacrament.  In Finn’s opinion, the crown was a bit too close to the circlet he had sometimes had to don before the coup, but he couldn’t deny that Poe had worn his with an air of serene confidence that had Finn staring.  “I’m sure Papa has some crowns we could borrow, if you want.”

 

“Maybe for special occasions,” Poe allowed, privately thinking he would never wear a crown again as long as he lived.  That had been the most uncomfortable he had felt the entire day, even more than standing in front of everyone he knew and hundreds he didn’t and declaring his love.

 

“You looked good, your highness,” Finn said, grinning as Poe dug a finger into his side in retaliation.  “Should I get you some engraved cards?  ‘His Imperial Highness, Poe Dameron-Skywalker’?”

 

“Very funny, love,” Poe answered drily.  Finn chuckled, leaning up to quickly to kiss his husband’s cheek.  “You know I only took the title for you.”

 

“I know.  You didn’t have to—I mean, it’s not like we’re going to rule Russia or anything,” Finn said quickly.

 

“In that case I need to change my wedding present,” Poe laughed easily.  “It’s an empty title, but I wasn’t going to be the reason you lost it.  Don’t expect me to use it though,” he warned lightly.

 

“I don’t use it,” Finn shrugged, “unless I’m trying to get out of being arrested.”

 

Poe laughed in surprise.  “You royals are all the same, using your standing to get out of paying for bread.”

 

“Just call me ‘Marie Antoinette’,” Finn said drily before sitting up and capturing Poe’s lips against his own.  Poe hummed in appreciation but it soon gave way to a deep groan as Finn shifted to deepen the kiss.  Poe released Finn’s hand so he could cradle the base of his head gentle, leveraging himself so he could lean down into the kiss.  Finn gasped in surprise and Poe pressed his advantage, his tongue flicking lightly between Finn’s parted lips.  Finn’s tongue responded sweetly and Poe grinned, opening his eyes slightly to see his husband’s expression of bliss.

 

“Would you like me to circle the block, sirs?” 

 

Finn’s head jerked to the side, eyes widening as he realized he and Poe weren’t alone.  The driver was pointedly not looking back at them, but Poe could see a corner of his face in the rearview mirror and his face was carefully neutral.

 

“No, no, thank you,” Poe answered, leaning away slightly to allow Finn to sit back.  “Are we at the courthouse?”

 

“Indeed, sir.”

 

“One more signature, and it’s finally official,” Finn said lightly, taking Poe’s hand again and squeezing it.

 

“It’s already official, love,” Poe smiled.  “Nothing to be nervous about now.”

 

“You will be late for your appointment if you continue in this manner, sirs,” the driver drawled.

 

“Thank you, um,” Poe paused, realizing he didn’t recognize the man at the wheel.

 

“Kay, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Kay, we’ll be back shortly,” Finn said with a nod.

 

“Of course, sir.”  With that, Kay silently left the car to open the door beside Poe and held it open, expressionless, as Poe and Finn silently bowed out of the car.

 

“Do you feel like we’ve just been scolded,” Finn whispered as he and Poe made their way up the stone stairs.

 

“All he had to do was tell me to ‘think about what I’ve done’ and he could have been my old history teacher,” Poe mumbled back.  “Don’t look back, he might turn us to stone.”

 

Finn nodded seriously, even as he risked a glance back to see Kay standing motionless on the sidewalk beside the car, his hands clasped loosely in front of him.  Finn raised his hand and waved, mostly out of curiosity to see what the driver would do.  Kay raised his arm and waved back mechanically, like he had never made the motion before in his life.

 

“I think I like him,” Finn informed Poe as Poe opened the heavy wooden door to the courthouse.

 

“Of course you do,” Poe said lightly.  “We’re not adopting the driver, Finn.”

 

“Alright,” Finn said easily.  Poe narrowed his eyes, wondering how long it would be before he came home to Finn and Kay exchanging stories in their parlor.  He would have to wait until after the honeymoon at least.

 

*****

 

“Who’s Legs?”

 

“Legs,” Poe repeated blankly as Bastian interrupted the string of well-wishers to press a glass of champagne into Poe’s hand.  He and Finn had arrived at the dowagers’ half an hour ago, and Poe had already been congratulated by at least fifty people he had never seen before in his life.

 

Bastian nodded, jerking his head to Poe’s left.  Poe glanced over, noticing that that was where Finn had gotten cornered by crowd of ladies who had to be at least two hundred years old.  Beyond that tableau, beside the tall windows was the tall figure of their driver.

 

“That would be Kay,” Poe answered lightly, taking a gulp of his drink.  “Finn decided he liked him and invited him in.”

 

“But who is he,” Bastian pressed as he eased himself between Poe and an enthusiastic niece of a friend of Leia’s, who had already kissed Poe’s cheek twice.

 

“Our driver,” Poe shrugged.  “Thanks, by the way.”

 

“Your driver,” Bastian repeated, cocking his head to the side before rolling his eyes.  “Think you’ll ever get tired of Finn collecting us?”

 

Poe frowned, wondering what he meant by ‘us.’  “I doubt it.  He’s a good judge of character—hasn’t been wrong yet.”

 

Bastian hummed at that, looking over again.  “Well, I’ll introduce myself.  We’ve got to stick together.”

 

“Who’s ‘we,’” Poe interrupted.

 

“You know,” Bastian chuckled.  “Finn’s lost souls.”  Poe raised an eyebrow but Bastian cut him off.  “Watch this: Rey’s going to try and free Finn from the gaggle.”

 

Poe turned to see Rey, in complete court attire, glide her way in front of the ladies, sending a dazzling smile around to them and executing a curtsy that would put any lady to shame.  When she rose gracefully, she flicked her fan open and discreetly covered her mouth to say something to Finn, who smiled and quickly bowed away.  Instantly Finn’s arm was grabbed by Kes, who guided Finn towards the far corner of the room.

 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Poe said, bowing his head slightly to Bastian.

 

Bastian looked perturbed at that and responding by bowing deeply from his waist, throwing one arm out.  “Be my guest.”

 

“Quit that,” Poe scowled, elbowing Bastian in the stomach as he straightened.  Bastian laughed before turning away and heading towards the windows.  Poe shook his head before he made his way over to where Finn and his father were seated.  “How are you doing, love?”

 

“Managing, thank you,” Kes said with a smirk.  Poe shot him an unimpressed look but Finn laughed cheerfully.

 

“I’ll rephrase that: how are doing, husband dearest,” Poe asked drily.

 

“I’m great.  There’s so many people,” Finn said, gesturing around the room.  “We’re supposed to talk to all of them.”

 

Poe snorted.  “We’ll talk to as many as we can, love.  It’s our wedding day; at some point, we need to enjoy it.”

 

“You’re--,” Finn’s reply was drowned out by a loud bang that shook the floor and rattled the windows.  Poe threw himself at Finn, wrenching him into his arms and falling to his knees, bringing Finn with him and covering his husband with his own body.  A hand fell on his shoulder and he heard Kes shout for them to stay down. 

 

Poe pushed Finn’s head down further as he looked around frantically.  Everyone was either pressing themselves against the walls or cowering on the floor.  No one looked injured, nor was there any damage that Poe could see.  Slowly, Kes moved around Poe and Finn, making his way towards the center of the room.  Luke appeared as well, picking himself off the floor, eyes darting around before settling on Poe, who nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

 

“Remain calm,” Luke said, his voice carrying the silence that prevailed in the room.  Han moved quickly towards the wide doors that separated the ballroom from the main house.  “Please remain where you are.  We are investigating the cause now.”

 

“Are you okay,” Poe whispered against Finn’s hair.

 

“Yeah,” Finn breathed back, his voice shaking slightly.  “Was—a bomb?”

 

“I don’t know,” Poe answered, rubbing a hand down Finn’s back soothingly.  “Han went to check.”

 

Finn lifted his head, glancing around to make sure their friends and family were safe.  Rey had moved to stand beside Karé and Snap, a glint of metal informing Finn that she was armed.  Bastian was checking through the windows.  No one else moved until Han marched back in and went straight to Kes and Luke, leaning down slightly to mutter.

 

Luke cleared his throat and stepped back.  “Don’t be alarmed.  There has been a malfunction in the kitchen.  I am informed that no one was injured, and there is no danger of a repeat occurrence.  Please, let us continue the celebration of my son’s nuptial.”

 

“Thank God for that,” Poe groaned, standing and bringing Finn up with him.  “Should have known something like that would happen—it’s just our luck.  I don’t think we can have more than ten people in a room without—what are you doing?”

 

Finn had slipped his jacket off and held it out to his husband.  “Can you hold this for me?”

 

Poe took it and draped it over his arm without thinking.  “Planning something, love?”

 

Chuckling, Finn shrugged and began unbuttoning his waistcoat.  “There’s only one thing in the kitchen that could cause that kind of explosion.”

 

“Okay,” Poe said hesitantly.  “And that would be…?”

 

“The ovens,” Finn smiled, handing his waistcoat over for Poe to take and add to the small collection of Finn’s clothing he now had.  Poe just shook his head in confusion and Finn smirked.  “I can fix ovens, remember?”

 

Poe blinked.  “Right, of course,” he said, staring.  “Sorry, love, but are you going to go fix the ovens _now_?”

 

“Yeah,” Finn shrugged.

 

“Ah.  Well, don’t get me wrong but—are you sure you need to leave your wedding reception to fix the ovens,” Poe asked slowly.

 

Finn blinked.  “Is that rude?  Only, dinner will probably be delayed if I don’t.  I can be quick.”

 

Poe sucked in a deep breath before glancing back around the room, where people were slowly beginning to mingle again.  “Alright.  You make a run for it and I’ll cover your back.”

 

Finn leaned in for a quick kiss.  “You’re the best, Poe!”

 

“I think we’re both insane,” Poe answered with a soft smile.  He squeezed Finn’s shoulder before Finn made an inconspicuous escape through the serving door.  Shaking his head, Poe turned back to the room, wondering where the champagne had gotten to.

 

“If all royal weddings are like this, I should go to more of them,” came a familiar voice of Poe’s right.

 

“Maz!  I was wondering when you’d show up,” Poe laughed, leaning down to give the shorter woman’s cheek a kiss.  He noticed she had two glasses of champagne and said, “Please tell me one of those is for me.”

 

Maz snorted.  “Of course, silly boy.  I was hoping to toast to you and Finnie but he managed to slip away, huh?”

 

“He’ll be back in a minute,” Poe reassured, clinking his glass gently against Maz’s before the two of them took a sip.  “He wants to check on the kitchen.”

 

“Of course he does,” Maz shook her head.  “His heart’s the size of the moon.”

 

“Keeps things interesting,” Poe smiled.  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“How many of them are leaving with less than they came with,” Poe asked casually.

 

Maz winked.  “None will unknowingly.”

 

“That’s reassuring,” Poe said drily, taking another gulp of champagne.

 

“What’s reassuring,” Bastian asked, coming up on Poe’s other side.  Poe narrowed his eyes.

 

“Are you watching me?”

 

Bastian shrugged.  “Rey wanted to have Finn’s back.  Something about them making a good team.  So I was relegated.”

 

“You don’t have to watch me,” Poe said firmly.

 

“Alright,” Bastian smiled crookedly.  “Want something stronger?  Han is filling his glass with gin and soda.”

 

“Damn, he always did have the best ideas,” Poe mumbled, downing the rest of his champagne.  “Don’t tell him I said that.”

 

“Oh, I am definitely telling him that,” Bastian smirked before glancing over at Maz, who was watching him.  “My apologies, madam.”

 

“Right,” Poe said, remembering himself.  “Bastian, this is Maz Kanata, a friend of Finn’s and mine.  Maz, this is Bastian—uh, I’m sorry, I don’t know your surname.”

 

“That’s because I don’t use it much,” Bastian shrugged.  “Bastian St. Claire.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, madam.”

 

“You use your mother’s last name,” Maz stated.  Bastian froze before staggering back a step as though he had been pushed.

 

“How do you know that,” Bastian hissed through his teeth.  Poe reached out a steadying hand, griping the taller man’s arm.

 

Maz watched Bastian, unblinking.  “I knew her.  When she was your age.”

 

Bastian swallowed.  “How do you know _me_?”

 

“I was there when you were born,” Maz answered.  “I never forget.  It's been--what, twenty-two years now?  You look so like her.  The two of you lived with me until…”

 

Poe frowned, looking between the pair.  “Perhaps we should take this somewhere else.”

 

But Bastian was already shaking his head.  “Until what?”

 

“Until your father—came to get you both,” Maz finished, voice strained.  “He was--,”

 

“I don’t want to--,” Bastian stammered.  “Don’t tell me about--,”

 

“Dad,” Poe called sharply, shifting so his arm went around Bastian’s back.  Kes looked over from where he was standing, conversing with some woman Poe didn’t recognize.  Poe jerked his head and his father excused himself and made his way over to the group.

 

Kes took one look at Bastian’s wide eyes and ashen face before turning to Maz.  “You know each other?”

 

“She knows my mother,” Bastian mumbled.

 

“I _knew_ your mother,” Maz corrected.  “We lost contact after Julian--,”

 

“Don’t say his name,” Bastian breathed, closing his eyes.  “Please.”

 

“That is quite enough,” Kes said firmly, his stance shifting into what Poe used to call his Colonel Posture.  “This is hardly the time or the place.”

 

Maz continued to stare at Bastian.  Poe couldn’t tell if she had blinked since the conversation had started.  “You are quite right.  I’m sorry; I didn’t intend to upset you.”

 

“No, it’s not—it’s fine,” Bastian snapped, rolling his shoulders back and drawing himself up.  “It’s nice to meet you, madam.  We should catch up at some point.”  With that he turned away from Poe and Kes and walked in measured steps across the room, snatching Han’s glass from his hands as he passed, before stopping next to Kay and striking up a conversation.

 

“I am sorry,” Maz said to Poe.  “I didn’t realize.”

 

“As I say, this is not the time or place for this,” Kes stated.

 

“Yes,” Maz nodded.  “Perhaps we should talk further.”  Kes inclined his head slightly but made no move to leave.  Maz huffed a laugh.  “Another time then.”  She sent an odd look between Poe and Kes before making her way to Rey.

 

Kes sighed.  “I’m sorry about that, son.”

 

“No, no,” Poe shrugged.  “No problem.  Anything I should know?”

 

“It’s not my place,” Kes hedged.  “Where did Finn get to?”

 

Poe sighed.  “Alright.  I know I'm on a need-to-know basis, but--,”

 

“It’s not that, Poe.”  Kes pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly.  “I didn’t mean--,”

 

“But,” Poe continued, slightly louder, “if there’s something I can do, I want to.”

 

Kes blinked.  “Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “I’m not completely heartless.”

 

“I never said that,” Kes snapped, glaring.  “Don’t you dare--,”

 

“So can I help,” Poe interrupted.

 

Kes paused.  “He’s like you,” he shook his head.  “He needs his space.  Remember when you were upset with your bedtime and you hid in the woods for an entire night?”

 

Poe snorted.  “I remember.  It was cold.  You weren’t home then, were you?”

 

“No, but your mother wrote me some very detailed letters about it,” Kes laughed.  “Usually she couldn’t be bothered to write more than a few lines.  Whenever I received a letter more than one sheet long I knew you had done something foolish.”

 

“Great,” Poe said drily.

 

“Are you enjoying yourself,” Luke asked kindly, coming to stand between father and son.

 

“The excitement never stops,” Poe answered with a chuckle.  “The exploding oven was a surprise.”

 

“How do you know it was an oven,” Kes asked, taking a sip from his glass.

 

“Finn went to fix it,” Poe replied, enjoying the snort and subsequent coughing fit from his father.  “Careful, Dad, those bubbles will catch up with you.”

 

Kes shot a reproachful look at Poe while Luke frowned.  “Don’t tell me the two of you are still drinking champagne.”

 

“I heard Han has gin,” Poe scowled down at the glass in his hand.

 

“I thought champagne was all that was being served,” Kes said hesitantly.

 

Luke’s shoulders shook.  “I see.  Follow me.”  Luke looked over his shoulder and sent a signal to Snap, who nodded once from his place at the fireplace.  Next Luke headed over to the long wall of mirrors that were across the room from the windows.  Discreetly he paused in front of one, pressing his foot against one of the floorboards, which inclined as the mirrored panel clicked forward a centimeter.  Glancing around, Luke pulled the mirrored door open enough to slide through.  Kes and Poe exchanged a quick look before Poe and then his father followed.

 

“Close it behind you,” Luke whispered from his place at a small polished bar.  The room was small and cramped, lit by tall white candles.  There were three armchairs taking up most of the space not occupied by the bar.  Han was mixing a drink and Leia was resting in one of the chairs, but she sent a warm smile over to Poe and Kes as they looked around in surprise.

 

“Welcome to the family,” Leia said, toasting to them with her glass of whiskey.

 

“You have a secret bar,” Poe breathed, still looking around the space.

 

“It’s impossible to survive formal functions without one,” Luke grinned, taking a bottle of vermouth from behind the bar. 

 

“I wasn’t allowed in,” Han said with a crooked smile.  “Back at court, their majesties would sneak away and I had to stand guard.”

 

“You wouldn’t have been much use to us drunk, general,” Leia smirked.

 

“Isn’t she the romantic,” Luke joked as he poured carefully a mixture of vermouth and gin into a shaker before adding ice.

 

“Royals,” Kes muttered under his breath, dazed.

 

“Well?  What are you drinking,” Han asked, jerking his chin at Poe and Kes.

 

Poe took his father and dragged him over to the bar.  “I’ll have whatever you’re having.  Dad?”

 

Kes looked over at Luke, nodding at his drink.  “How is that?”

 

Luke shrugged.  “Dry.  Sweet.  Hand me your glass.”  And Luke took Kes’s glass from his lax fingers and began to pour vermouth and gin into the silver shaker.  Kes stared.

 

Poe elbowed his hand gently in the side.  “I’ll bet you never thought the emperor would be mixing you a drink.”

 

Kes shook his head in wonder.  Luke sent a sly look over at Poe.  “I’m full of surprises.”

 

Poe snorted.  Then he frowned as a panel of wood behind the bar was pulled open and Finn let himself in.

 

“One of the ovens will need to be replaced, but the other is all set.  Dinner will be served in ten minutes.  Poe!  You found them.”

 

“No thanks to you, evidently,” Poe teased, leaning across the bar to hand Finn his jacket and waistcoat back.  Finn smiled sheepishly.

 

“Well, I wasn’t hiding it,” Finn said, looking contrite as he put his waistcoat on.

 

“Don’t worry,” Poe smiled.  “At least I know before the dancing starts.”

 

“We haven’t danced in so long,” Finn sighed, shooting a pitiful look at his husband, who smiled kindly back.

 

“We’ve been busy, and I was injured.  I’ll make up for it tonight, my love.”

 

“We should head back,” Leia announced, rising, “if dinner is to be served soon.”

 

Luke’s shoulders slumped.  “Very well.”

 

“Oh, for God’s sake, Luke,” Leia groaned.  “If the cats are bothering you, you need only tell them ‘no.’”

 

“I beg your pardon,” Luke turned around and glared at his sister.  “What exactly do you think I have been doing for the past thirty-five years?”

 

“If you would just _find someone_ ,” Leia said, glaring back, “they would leave you be.”

 

“Is that so?”  Luke smiled sharply.  “Han, you are my escort for the evening.”

 

“What,” Han asked flatly.

 

“You can’t have Han, I’ve already picked him,” Leia rolled her eyes.

 

“Have you?  I distinctly remember the two of you avoiding each other all day,” Luke drawled, looking down his nose at his glass.

 

Leia’s face twisted into a scowl before she announced, “Come along, Han.  We’ll be leaving.”  She swept out through the hidden mirrored door, Han following behind, looking bewildered.

 

“What was that,” Poe laughed, looking over at Luke.

 

“The two of them are impossible,” Luke shrugged.  “Every so often they need to be reminded that they truly do like each other.”

 

“That wasn’t very nice, Papa,” Finn mentioned casually as he adjusted his cuffs.

 

“Effective and nice rarely go together, angel,” Luke answered with a smile.

 

“And the emperor is back,” Kes chuckled, rolling his glass between his hands.

 

Luke shook his head.  “He’s never far, I’m afraid.  Come, Kes, let’s give the newlyweds a moment before dinner.”

 

Kes nodded, patting Poe on the back before leaving with Luke.

 

“Your family is crazy, my love,” Poe said.

 

“Yeah, but that includes you now too,” Finn replied with a grin.

 

Poe groaned.  “Skywakers.”

 

*****

 

“Let me go first,” Finn whispered, lips against Poe’s ear.

 

“No, love,” Poe breathed back.

 

“But I’m the dowager grand duke,” Finn whined softly.

 

“I’m older,” Poe answered quietly.  Finn sent a pout in his direction, but Poe had braced himself for it and just shook his head.  Poe kept his eyes on his husband as he slowly picked up his knife and tapped it firmly against his glass.  “If I could have your attention,” Poe announced as Finn moaned next to him.  Everyone in the dining room turned to look as Poe drew himself, his chair pulled back discreetly by one of the footmen.

 

Poe swallowed, glancing around at the two long tables of guests.  Kes sent him an encouraging nod and Luke already had his glass in hand.  Taking a deep breath, Poe locked his shoulders back and plastered a smile on his face.

 

“Thank you for joining Finn and I today.  We are so happy to be able to share this day with all of you.”  His eyes landed on Han, who sent a small smile in his direction.  “As all of you know, Finn and I have had an…interesting journey to the altar.”  There were some polite murmurs of laughter mixed in with the loud barks of mirth from their friends.  “And I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.”  Poe turned to look down at his husband, who staring up at him with wet eyes.  “Finn, you are without a doubt my other half, my better half.  Ever since we first met I knew there was something about you.  Your energy, your enthusiasm for life, your fire.  And before long I thought I couldn’t live without you.  Now I know I can’t.  Where ever you go, whatever you do, you will always have me by your side.  And I know that you will always be there to save me, just like you have been since we’ve met.”  Tears were rolling down Finn’s face and Poe had to clear his throat before turning back to the rest of the room and raising his glass.  “To Fyodor Finn Dameron-Skywalker”

 

Everyone echoed in response, clinking glasses with those around them.  Poe sat back down, holding out his glass for Finn.  Finn sniffed, rubbing his hands against his cheeks, before picking up his flute of champagne and clinking against his husband’s.

 

“This is why I wanted to go first,” Finn mumbled.  “How can I follow that?”

 

Poe smiled softly.  “I love you, Finn.  Don’t worry, this is the easy part.”

 

Finn laughed wetly.  “That’s what you always say.”

 

“And I’m always right.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes, wiping his thumb under both of his eyes.  He gulped before standing up.  Everyone in the room focused on him and Finn bit his lip.  “Poe just told me that this would be the easy part.  I wonder what he thinks the hard part is.”  Poe snorted beside him, but Finn was more amused that Kes did the same thing across the room.  “Poe once told me he fell in love with me when I agreed to jump off a moving train car with him.”  Finn smiled at the few gasps that drew from the older ladies and gentlemen in the room.  “And, as romantic as that was, it wasn’t when I fell in love with him.”  Finn shifted so he could watch Poe’s face, which was turned up towards him in awe.  “For ten years, I was nameless, unwanted, unnecessary.  Within the first three minutes of meeting, you had already given me a name.  And that was when I realized we would be friends.  But I didn’t love you until—we were on the ship, and you were teaching me to waltz.  I don’t think you realized, but the sun was setting and when you spun me under your arm the light blinded me.  Then the next thing I saw was your face appear out of the light.  And you were looking at me like I mattered.  Like there was nowhere else you would rather be.  And I realized that no matter what happened, I didn’t want to be without you.  I’m so happy I don’t have to be without you ever again.”  Finn looked back at the dining room, where he noticed Rey and Bastian wiping their eyes.  “To Poe Dameron-Skywalker.”

 

The rest of the room repeated Poe’s name, but Finn didn’t notice because Poe suddenly surged up, grabbing Finn’s face between his hands, and kissing him deeply.  Finn felt his glass gently removed from his hand and then he was wrapping his arms around Poe’s waist, kissing him back, tilting his head to the left for a better angle.

 

“Shall we proceed to the ballroom,” Leia announced loudly, hoping to distract from the antics of the newlyweds.

 

Poe hummed, pulling back slightly.  “I think I owe you a dance or ten?”

 

Finn huffed.  “I think you’re right.”

 

*****

 

Finn moaned, dropping face first onto the large hotel bed.  “I’m never moving again.”

 

“Well, you should at least change out of your suit,” Poe said lightly, opening the wardrobe to see that someone had hung their clothes for the next day, as well as robes for each of them.  “We’ll have to thank Karé; she set this up well.”

 

Finn turned his head slightly, watching Poe undo his tie and move to the bureau and checking the drawers.  “It was very nice of her.”

 

Poe nodded, frowning as he noticed the conspicuous absence of any pajamas.  “I may have spoken too soon.”  He went over to the nightstand, pulling out the drawer and then quickly closing it again when he saw all that was inside it was a glass vial of translucent liquid.  “I changed my mind—we should kill Karé slowly.”

 

“What?  Why,” Finn asked as crawling up the bed.  Poe shook his head, turning away slightly to pull off his jacket and vest.  Finn took the opportunity to check inside the nightstand, blinking down at the bottle inside.  Poe’s hand shot out, slamming the drawer shut again.  “Poe,” Finn sighed, “it’s not like I’m never going to see--,”

 

“It’s late,” Poe interrupted.  “We’ve been up since before dawn.”

 

“Yeah,” Finn drew out, watching Poe begin to pace beside the bed.  “Poe, if you’re nervous--,” Finn broke off as Poe’s whipped around to give him an incredulous look.  “What?”

 

“If _I’m_ nervous?”

 

Finn shrugged.  “You seem nervous.”

 

Poe shook his head.  “I’m—I don’t want you to feel like anything is expected of you.”

 

Finn threw a pillow at his husband, hitting him in the face.  “Now you’re being ridiculous.  I thought I made it perfectly clear--,”

 

“That’s not--,” Poe started.

 

“—that I am very interested--,”

 

“—I just want--,”

 

“—in all aspects of deepening our relationship,” Finn finished, crossing his arms.

 

Poe bit his lip.  “Alright, okay.”  He bent down, picked up the pillow, and brought it back to Finn, sitting down next to his husband.  “You’re right.  I suppose I’m—trying to look out for you when you don’t need it.”

 

“Again,” Finn added.

 

“Yes, again,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “But I do have a request, love.”

 

Finn shifted until he had his arm around Poe’s waist.  “What, dragon?”

 

Poe smiled at the endearment.  “I can barely see straight I’m so exhausted.  Can I have a nap before we—uh, deepen our relationship?”

 

There was a pause before Finn burst out laughing.  “Thank God!  I haven’t been this tired since—I’m so tired I don’t know the last time.”

 

“Perfect,” Poe smiled, kissing Finn quick.  “But you shouldn’t sleep in your suit.”

 

Finn sighed, starting to fiddle with his tie.  “Can you pass me a nightshirt?”

 

“No, I can’t because there aren’t any.”

 

“Oh.”  A mischievous grin spread across Finn’s face.  “I definitely have to thank Karé.”

 

“You are sin,” Poe groaned.

 

*****

 

The second time Finn woke up the next morning he did so because he was cold.  He blinked awake, picking his head up off the pillow.  From his knees down the blankets and sheets had been pulled away and were now wrapped around Poe in a cocoon.  Finn reached out and tugged on the rumpled curled that were sticking out from the blankets.

 

“Wha?”

 

“Poe, you stole the blankets,” Finn rasped out.  Poe’s arm snaked out from under the covers, grabbing Finn’s hip, and rolling his husband into his grasp.  Finn laughed lightly as he was pulled against Poe’s bare chest.

 

“Better,” Poe asked against Finn’s head.  Finn hummed contently, nuzzling his nose against Poe’s shoulder before settling back to doze again.  Poe sighed happily, running a hand down Finn’s back, feeling the scar ripple under his fingers.

 

Then he froze.

 

“Was that—knocking,” Finn mumbled.

 

“Ignore it,” Poe grumbled, tucking his head back down.

 

The knocking continued.

 

“I think we should get it,” Finn whispered.

 

“Fine,” Poe grunted, extracting himself from the blankets, and marching over to the wardrobe to grab a robe.  He heard Finn shifting behind him and Poe said, “Stay put.  We’re not getting up yet.”

 

“Mmm, okay,” Finn said, sinking back down into the mattress.  Poe smiled back at the bed, before making his way into the small sitting room attached to the bedroom and to the door.

 

Bracing himself for a misguided but well-meaning hotel server with breakfast, Poe ran a hand through his hair and unlocked the door.  Pulling it open, he took one look at the person on the other side and groaned, “No.”

 

“Good morning,” Karé chimed cheerfully.

 

“I don’t know what tradition you have in mind,” Poe hissed, “but I’m not doing it.”

 

Karé rolled her eyes.  “How are you?  How’s Finn?”

 

“Perfect, until I had to get up to answer the door.”

 

“Oh.  _Oh_ ,” she said, eyes going wide.  Poe closed his eyes, praying this would be over soon.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

Poe snorted.  “You showed up at our hotel room the morning after our wedding and you _didn’t mean to interrupt_?”

 

“I just wanted to drop this off,” Karé said, holding up a large picnic basket.  “It’s food for your train ride later.”

 

“You didn’t cook it, did you,” Poe asked, looked skeptical.

 

“Of course not.  We paid someone to,” she shrugged.  “There’s also some lavender oil, you know, for soreness--,”

 

“That’s enough,” Poe cut in, grabbing the basket as Karé cackled.  “Thank you very much.  We’ll see you for Christmas.”

 

“Have a nice honeymoon!”

 

Poe shut the door, flicking the lock shut, and then heading back to the bedroom, dropping the basket on the sofa.

 

“Who was it,” Finn mumbled as Poe slid back into the bed.

 

“Karé.  Don’t ask.”

 

“I don’t want to know.”              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a ride, huh? We have an epilogue to go and then this story is a wrap!  
> Thank you as always for everyone who takes the time to leave a comment of kudos :D
> 
> So I was thinking about this series. I have one more idea for a multi-chapter story with these characters at the moment. But the idea for this sequel came from a comment on 'Fyodor' so I thought, why not ask y'all? If you have any ideas for one-shots or shorter stories in this series, let me know in the comments and I'll be happy to see what I can do :)


	17. Epilogue: Two Weeks Later

_Rome, Italy_

 

Rey stifled a yawn as she waited for the elevator.  The train ride from Florence to Rome the night before had not been particularly smooth and Rey hadn’t gotten much sleep.  Still, it was a nice hotel to arrive at.  She glanced around at the rose marble floors and the gilded wood accents.  Since her room was not prepared for her this early (although Rey would like to point out that eight in the morning is not _early_ ) she had left her luggage with the proprietor.  A soft ding and the elevator attendant opened the gate fore her and Rey stepped inside.

 

“What floor, signorina?”

 

“Fifth floor, please.”

 

“Are you staying in Rome long?”

 

“Just a few days.  I am meeting two friends here.”  Rey smiled to herself.  She did enjoy surprising her friends, especially Finn.  She and Poe had discussed the subject at length one evening over a few bottles of merlot.

 

“Fifth floor, signorina.”

 

“Thank you very much,” Rey said, slipping the attendant a few liras on her way out of the elevator.  The man at the front desk had informed her that the Dameron-Skywalkers were staying in room 503, which was a corner room at the end of the hall on her left.  She pressed her ear to the door when she approached, but heard nothing from inside the room.  Shrugging slightly, she raised her fist and proceeded to bang loudly on the door for about thirty seconds.

 

“Okay!  Hold on!”  Poe’s muffled and rather annoyed voice shouted.  “What is it,” he growled, pulling the door open abruptly and then freezing, staring.

 

Rey stared back.  Poe’s hair was a wild mess of curls; the stubble across his jawline showed he had yet to shave; and he clearly wasn’t dressed for breakfast in the burgundy robe hastily tied around his waist.  Rey cleared her throat.

 

“Good morning, Poe,” she said cheerfully.

 

“What are you doing here,” Poe asked in quiet disbelief.  Rey frowned.

 

“I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I would--,”

 

“‘ _In the neighborhood_ ’?” Poe’s eyes shot up to the ceiling and the knuckles of his hand griping the doorframe turned white.  “Rey.  What the hell is going on?”

 

“Are you going to invite me in?”  Rey watched as Poe clenched his jaw and wondered if he was about to tell her to leave.  Then he offered a tight smile that did not diminish the continued glare in his eyes.

 

“How rude of me.  Someone might think I didn’t want to see my friend on my honeymoon,” he said drily, standing away from the doorway and allowing Rey to slip past him into the room.  There was a wall of windows at the far end and a balcony beyond.  A small round table with two chairs served as the breakfast table Rey assumed, and the slightly worn but comfortable-looking yellow sofa and armchairs completed the lounge.  There was a partially open door to the right by the windows; Rey moved towards it to continue her inspection.  Poe rushed to block her path.

 

“Poe--,”

 

“Rey,” Poe said firmly.  “Take a seat.  I’ll go announce your arrival to Finn.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes but made her way over to the sofa and sank into the cushions.  Once he was sure she was settled Poe rolled his shoulders, walked over to the bedroom door, and popped his head in.

 

“Who was it,” came Finn’s sleepy voice.

 

“Countess Kenobi was in the neighborhood and decided to pay us a morning call,” Poe answered with no enthusiasm.

 

“ _What?_ ”  There was a series of frantic sounds and rustling fabric before Poe drew back and Finn rushed out of the bedroom, still tying the belt of his dark blue robe into a sloppy knot.  In his haste Finn had not managed to pull his robe entirely on and Rey smiled slightly at his exposed left shoulder.  Finn didn’t seem to notice as he moved towards her with wide eyes and a bemused smile.  “Rey!  What on earth--?”

 

“Hello, Finn!”  Rey stood up and drew Finn in for a tight hug.  “How are you?”  Rey drew back and held him at arm’s length, studying his face.  “You look much more relaxed and happy.  The Italian air must agree with you.”

 

Poe snorted behind him, but Finn just smiled.  “Italy is amazing.  Genoa and Florence were beautiful, and there’s so much to see in Rome.  But you know all about that.  What brings you here?”

 

Poe walked up behind Finn, wrapped an arm around his waist, and placed a soft kiss on Finn’s exposed shoulder before adjusting the robe’s collar to cover it.  “That’s what I asked,” he said, looking over at Rey.

 

Rey glanced between the two men.  “Am I interrupting?”

 

Finn coughed.  “No, no, of course not--,”

 

“Whatever could have given you that impression,” Poe interrupted loudly.  “Was it the robes?”

 

“Poe,” Finn huffed.  “Really, Rey, it’s absolutely fine.  How long are you in Rome for?”

 

“Two days,” Rey replied.  “Then I’m traveling down to Naples.”

 

“What a coincidence,” Poe said with a flash of teeth.  “Isn’t that when we’re going to Naples, love?”

 

“Yes, as a matter of--,”

 

“Tell me, Rey, are you planning on staying in our room as well,” Poe asked.

 

Rey glared.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  I’m staying in room 502.”

 

“Oh, next door?  Look at the long leash we’re allowed, Finn,” Poe said cheerfully.

 

Finn glanced back at his husband.  “What are you talking about?”

 

Poe and Rey stared at each other for a moment longer before Poe glanced over at Finn.  “Nothing, love.  You know I’m not at my best before I have some coffee.”

 

“Yeah,” Finn drew out.

 

“How about you get dressed and then you can order us some breakfast?  They seem to understand your Italian better than my French,” Poe said with a smile.  Finn looked between his husband and Rey curiously before shrugging.

 

“Alright.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Poe watched Finn make his way back to their bedroom and close the door before rounding on Rey.  “There.  He’s alive, he’s healthy, he’s happy.  Satisfied?  Can you go send your report back to whoever sent you here?”

 

“No one _sent_ me,” Rey snapped, crossing her arms.  “And why do you think I came to check on Finn?”

 

“Of course you came to see Finn,” Poe scowled.  “Why else would you barge into our hotel room at 0800?”  Rey stayed silent, raising an eyebrow as she stared at Poe, who swallowed.  “It was Luke, wasn’t it?”

 

Rey sighed.  “No, Luke is handling everything well.  The daily letters from Finn help.  Why haven’t you been sending Kes any?”

 

Poe blinked.  “Because Dad knows I’m fine.  Why wouldn’t I be?  I’m with my husband.”

 

Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but barely.  “Of course.”

 

“Poe, shouldn’t you get dressed,” Finn asked, emerging in gray trousers, socks, and a crisp white shirt he was finishing buttoning.  He sent a bright smile at Poe, who nodded.  Poe paused to kiss Finn on the cheek before going into the bedroom and closing the door with a bit too much force.  “Sorry about that,” Finn said to Rey.  “He honestly needs coffee in the morning or else--,”

 

“No need to explain,” Rey waved it away.  “I could use some myself.”

 

Finn crossed to the door, opened it, and gestured to the floor attendant, placing their breakfast order and slipping the man a few liras before closing the door and turning back to Rey.  “How was your trip down?”

 

“Uneventful, sadly,” Rey groaned.  Finn threw back his head and laughed.

 

“Most people would be happy about that,” he said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

 

“I suppose, but I’m bored out of my mind,” Rey replied, sitting back down on the sofa.  “Not all of us have domestic bliss to entertain ourselves.”

 

“I think I’ve had enough excitement to last me for a bit,” Finn shrugged.  “But anyway, you’re here about Poe, aren’t you?”  Rey gave an apologetic smile and Finn nodded.  “We’ve been taking it easy.  His knee hasn’t been seizing up much at all, and I’ve been making sure he isn’t lifting any of the luggage.  He wore himself out yesterday, trying to keep up with me at the ruins, so we’re going visit some cafes today.  I told him it’s because I’m tired.”

 

“You two are perfect for each other,” Rey grinned.

 

Finn smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

 

“Well, now that you’re joining us, what are your plans,” Poe asked, coming back into the room, putting the finishing touch on his necktie with a flourish.

 

“I have business at the Vatican,” Rey announced haughtily as Poe perched himself on the arm of Finn’s chair.

 

“You do,” Finn asked, surprised.

 

“Yes, they’ve recently been donated a number of illuminated manuscripts from the de Medici vaults.  And as I am the leading expert,” Rey continued, flashing her teeth at Poe, who blinked back, “they’ve asked me to give my opinion.  It should take me a few weeks, at least.”

 

“Oh?  What about Naples,” Poe asked.

 

“Naples?  Oh, I couldn’t possibly accompany you there,” Rey answered carelessly, privately amused at the dumbfounded look Poe sent her way.  Finn smiled and nodded in understanding.  “In fact, I’m sure I would only be in the way if I went with you.”

 

“You said—you just said you were going to Naples,” Poe stuttered.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rey shook her head.  “I’ll be much too busy here.  Now, Finn, would you mind if I use your desk?  I just want to send a quick note back to Luc.  I’ve told him to keep a close eye on one of my suspects, but I just remembered--,”

 

“Be my guest,” Finn interrupted, gesturing towards the desk, where the stationary was laid out. 

 

Rey rose gracefully, enjoying the confusion on Poe’s face as she quickly crossed to the desk, sat down, and unscrewed the top of the fountain pen.

 

“I’m not crazy, am I?  She definitely said--,”

 

“Poe, do you want her to come with us,” Finn whispered.

 

“No, of course I don’t!”

 

“Well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth then,” Finn smiled, pulling Poe down by the collar to press his lips against his husband’s.

 

Rey shook her head and quickly wrote:

 

_Kes,_

_Poe is in good hands._

_Finn tells me his knee is doing better, as is his shoulder._

_They will be in Rome two more days before heading to Naples._

_I’m certain you needn’t worry; Finn is very attentive._

_Sincerely yours,_

_RK_

“Rey?  Breakfast is here,” Finn called over.

 

“Oh, excellent.  I’ll have a cup of coffee before I call a taxi to the Vatican,” Rey answered, slipping the letter into an envelope, pasting the flap closed.  Poe asked how she took it and she said, “A slash of milk and two sugars, thank you.”  She addressed the letter, waved it so the ink would dry before sliding it into her pocketbook.

 

“Here you go,” Poe smiled at her as she slid into a seat at the table beside Finn.  She took the cup and saucer with a nod of thanks.  “And your hot chocolate, my love.”

 

“Thank you,” Finn answered.  “Can you pass me a—oh, thanks,” he trailed off as he took the offered butter knife from Poe, and slathered some butter on a slice of toast. 

 

“What are your plans for today,” Rey asked Poe.

 

“We’re planning on having an easy day.  Maybe see if there are any bookstores Finn would like to check out,” Poe answered easily, taking the buttered toast Finn held out to him and taking a bite.

 

“Really,” Finn asked, blinking.

 

“Why not,” Poe shrugged and smiled.  “Unless you don’t want to.”

 

“I do,” Finn beamed.  Poe winked at him, reaching for his cup of coffee. 

 

Rey looked between the two of them.  Yes, they were in very good hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you thank you to everyone who has read this story. I hope you enjoyed it! Extra thanks to everyone who left kudos or a comment, they have all been cherished and enjoyed!  
> Special thanks for the suggestions for further installments for this series. Adopted kids, working with Maz, and jealous Poe have been received and I'm excited to work on them :) If anyone has further suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comments! OR! I also have a tumblr now, so you can leave me suggestions there as well. I'm frequentlyhumming over there. :)  
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are welcome and thoroughly enjoyed! I will try to respond to every comment but I am human.  
> This story will be updated weekly :)


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